


Examine

by jeejaschocolate



Series: Jidaigeki: Historical AUs [6]
Category: Bleach
Genre: Actual fluff towards the end, Addiction, Affection, Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Historical, Aphrodisiacs, Arguments, Awkward Boners, BAMF!Uryu, Background Characters and cameos, Conflict Resolution, Developing Relationship, Drug Abuse, Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, First Time, Flashbacks, Frottage, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, PTSD, Power Bottom, References to War, Romance, Sexual Tension, Swearing, Violence, Virginity, Yakuza, cuteness, dark themes, discussion of sexuality, eroticism, withdrawals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-08-12
Packaged: 2018-07-15 18:36:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 65,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7234021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jeejaschocolate/pseuds/jeejaschocolate
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(Postwar period, 1940s-50s AU) After being released from his service in the Japanese military during World War II, Uryu is struggling to keep himself together at university. He wants to focus on his studies, while trying to forget terrible memories of the war. By chance, he runs into his former officer and laboratory supervisor, Szayelaporro Granz, who appears to be rather changed…</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Face

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Questionable_Decisions](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Questionable_Decisions/gifts).



> Hello all! Part six (which is really part five, but you know) is all ready to go! I am chomping at the bit with this one.
> 
> All credit goes to Questionable_Decisions for their lovely suggestions, and for helping me flesh out this story :)! Hope you enjoy, friend!
> 
> Now, as there are a lot of triggering things in this one, please mind the notes!
> 
> Notes:  
> Post-war Japan - So, after the Japanese surrendered to allied forces in 1945, Japan entered a period of complete chaos. The emperor, formerly a divine figure, was proven to be fallible which broke all kinds of nationalistic spirit. Beyond that, Japan was still recovering physically and mentally from the atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki. For all purposes, Japan was considered occupied by the United States until 1952 when Japan became its own sovereign nation once again.
> 
> This story takes place in 1950, two years before the end of the occupation by United States forces. As a result, there will be mentions of soldiers and references to the kinds of reforms the United States either did or tried to implement during these years—specifically in reference to education reform, as it applies to Uryu at university (basically, the US revitalized higher education by granting college status to a bunch of technical schools; it was a way to stimulate the economy for the long term). All white-male, paternalistic notions that dominated the country during this time will be noted :)
> 
> In addition, this story does have quite a bit of references to war crimes committed by the Japanese during WWII. I am putting the disclaimer right here (**THIS IS THE DISCLAIMER!!!**) that there will be triggering things in regards to the horribleness of these crimes. Please know that I do not mean to offend any person, living or dead, with this story—I just want to write something akin to a tale of redemption and romance! That’s the goal here (the only goal, besides sexy times, to date). 
> 
> Basically, this story is fueled from a general anti-war standpoint. As a whole, it is presented as morally ambiguous. No good guys, no bad guys. Just guys. That seems to work for our pair :)
> 
> In reference to the black market: Because the Japanese economy had all but completely collapsed, people were forced to turn to the black market for even basic goods. As a result, yakuza and other gangs became highly powerful, and work on the black market (cough cough Szayelaporro cough) was a lucrative business. 
> 
> In reference to drug addiction: During the postwar period, there arose a national mindset called "kyodatsu condition" (虚脱状態 kyodatsujoutai, “state of lethargy”). People in general had a declining morale and sense despair; as a result, drug and alcohol addiction were rampant. DISCLAIMER NUMBER 2: If you are suffering from drug addiction, please check out this link for more information: https://findtreatment.samhsa.gov/
> 
> torii 鳥居 - traditional Japanese gate found at the entrance of Shinto shrines, marks the transition from the ordinary and the sacred.

**Chapter One: Face**

Uryu sat at his desk, eyeing the candle next to him as it started to burn low. He wanted to finish this letter before he lost the light. So, blinking hard against the encroaching darkness, Uryu pushed up his glasses and continued writing.

_“…so I’m sorry that I cannot come home this winter. The end of the semester is a stressful time, and I need to finish my reports before spring. I expect to be locked in the laboratory through Christmas and into New Year’s…”_

Uryu blinked again and imagined his hometown at New Year’s time. The spring festival was always his favorite time of year growing up; visiting the shinto shrine near his home and throwing old fashioned coins into the well. He remembered the grand looking _torii_ that stood outside the shrine, a shimmering, untouchable fixture in his mind…

…When he went back after the war, the first thing he noticed about the _torii_ was that its red paint had begun to peel. At the time, Uryu had just returned to Japan after so long stationed in the Philippines. By contrast the weather in his hometown seemed bland and dry. Because of that (and…other things) Uryu felt like the world he had returned to was not actual reality. Nothing felt real. Finally, his grandfather told him to go visit the shrine for some meditation, to center himself—only for Uryu to find that _torii_ from his youth looking like a child’s plaything. 

The bespectacled man picked at the peeling paint with one finger. He chipped some off and stared at the red flakes as they evaporated against the ground. With that, Uryu turned right around on his heels and marched home on principle. 

Now, Uryu cleared his throat to reconnect with the present. He thought of New Year’s, of missing the festivities…of the _torii…_

He decided he had little need for sentimentalities.

_“….want you to give my regards to Father, if you see him. We still have not spoken and I doubt he will be coming home for the holidays either. But if you do meet, please tell him that I….”_

Uryu held his fountain pen in midair, unsure what else to say. Please tell him that I hate him? Please tell him…he’s the one who should have died in the war, instead of mom…?

The young student shook his head and pressed forward with the letter to his grandfather, Souken.

_“Please tell him that I wish him the best. Much love, your grandson.”_

Uryu folded the letter and stuffed it into an envelope without rereading his work. It was a careless thing to do; failure to proofread was punishable by dismissal in the laboratory. But, all things considered, Uryu did not want to go over all those thoughts he put down in the letter again. It was hard enough writing them once. 

So, blowing out his candle, Uryu threw on his coat and walked out of his single story dormitory to mail the letter. His lodgings were at the ass end of campus, in a small cottage-like shack that served as a one-person suite. Uryu’s family (being still moderately well off compared to other people; meaning that they at least did not have to go to the black market to buy groceries) had purchased this room for him in the hope of giving him some privacy. 

To help him study, they said. To keep him from going insane in front of other people, they meant.

As a result, Uryu had quite a ways to walk to get to the front side of campus where the post office was located. All he needed to go was make it to the door of the post office, then he could drop his letter in the over-night flap and turn right back around, go to sleep early to wake up for class the next day…

The late autumn air curled into the lapel of his coat, making him shiver. He crunched on red maple leaves with each step. He would not risk looking down, would not take the chance of those fallen maple leaves retaining any of their natural color and tricking his eyes in the dark.

A particularly hard gust of wind pulled the letter right out of his hand. Gasping in fear (please don’t make me have to write that damn thing again!), Uryu chased after it and reached down without thinking to retrieve it from where the wind had blown it to the ground—

There was a sea of red underneath his feet. He was bending down to get the letter, reaching into the redness to…

One blink, and it was 1943 again. His first deployment to the front lines on the southeast Chinese coast. He still did not know where exactly he was stationed—none of the other soldiers knew either. His superiors were careful never to tell them too much information about their location, so that they could not give away their coordinates in any letters sent home, (letters that could be intercepted, or letters that could be meant for the enemy). All Uryu knew was that it was warm there in spring. A beach-shanty type town. All he knew of this place was the sword at his hip and the pistol in his hand…

_The sand under his feet soaked up blood from fallen soldiers. They were his friends, or the enemy—people he recognized as men his own age and younger. The sand squished as he walked and blood bubbled up around his boots, the same way ocean water used to when he went to the beach as a child…only, now it was redder…Uryu reached down to pick up a gun from that sea of red, he needed to defend himself or else—_

Uryu blinked again. Back to the present. He stared at the letter in his hand, a maple leaf brushing his knuckles as he bent forward.

On instinct, Uryu muttered a sound of disgust and fear. He jerked away and feverishly rubbed his hand where the leaf had touched.

“1950…eight years…Tokyo…Gekkouban Institute of Science…” Uryu repeated his mantra over again several times. 

It was his way of forcing himself to realize the facts of his present. He told himself the current year, how long it had been since the memory, his present location, his school… He traced the characters for the Gekkouban Institute of Science in the air. He tried to feel the shape of those lines, to remember seeing it written. The name of his post-secondary school was something he had never seen in print until after the war, so that made it his first completely new memory. Gekkouban was an entity completely untouched by everything that happened before. Getting his acceptance letter was a moment of near happiness for the first time in so many years…Uryu repeated his college’s name several times for good measure.

Yes. Here he was at school. Eight years had passed since then. He was fine.

Uryu tread onward until he reached the post office. His finger stayed busy, tucked against his side, tracing characters into the air. 

To his surprise, one of the other students in his cohort was already at the door to the post office. An orange-haired, slim-bodied young woman dropped a letter of her own into the over-night flap. She appeared to be muttering to herself all the while.

“Inoue-san,” Uryu said right away, out of politeness. He could not pretend he had not seen her, no matter how awkward or sweaty he may have looked after that flashback. “Good evening.”

Orihime jumped a bit, then turned around to greet him. “Ishida-kun! Good evening to you as well! How are you doing?”

“I’m well, thank you,” Uryu said, bowing slightly. He pushed up his glasses to hide his face with one hand, then gestured to the letter in his hand. “It seems we both write our letter at night, don’t we?”

A lame thing to say, filling up space, but Orihime laughed politely all the same (she was good like that). “Yes! What a coincidence. Holiday letter to your family?”

Uryu fought back a sigh. Orihime seemed so bright and bubbly, smiling so wide her eyes closed. He wished her attitude was contagious, but it just made him feel slightly uncomfortable. “Yes, you know, that’s…how it is. Um…how about you, the same?”

She shook her head, still smiling. “Letters to friends! You know, most of my family died that time, so…I just have my friends with me now!”

That time? Uryu assumed she was talking about the war. Overly polite people had taken to calling it “that time,” meaning those fifteen some-odd years everyone in the nation lived through, was still living through as the days wore on. Uryu personally did not like the term, but he understood its uses. No need to actually say the word “war” and pour salt all over fresh wounds…

“Ah, I see,” Uryu replied. 

So Orihime’s family died during the war. An air raid, probably. For Uryu it was rather the same. During his two years stationed overseas, Uryu had no word from his family. He still could not figure out why. After the first year, Uryu assumed his whole family was dead, had died in some air strike. (Did the assuming make it easier? He never acknowledged the thought in its entirety, to be honest.) It wasn’t until his return home that he realized he was actually nearly correct—his mother and several other close members of the Ishida clan had died that way. Only his father, who himself was deployed across the Pacific, and grandfather (through some miracle) remained alive.

But Uryu said none of this. He just stood in silence while Orihime shifted her weight from foot to foot.

“Uh, well…” the girl began. “You know, if you’re staying here for New Year’s, some of us were planning on having a small celebration of our own! Just the lab crew, nothing big. Tatsuki-chan swears she has some sake stashed away, but she won’t show us until the day comes…”

“No, thank you, Inoue-san. You’re too kind, but I…already have plans.” 

Of course, that was a lie. Uryu had no plans except perhaps to get some vodka and spend some quality alone time with himself in the shack he called home…but, he also had no desire to spend the holidays with other people.

The solitude of his far-off dorm, though bizarre and stifling at times, was convenient. It kept him from having to interact socially, which he knew he was not ready for. Keeping up appearances around other people just seemed like too much of a hardship at the moment. He would not want to be around them if he lost track of the present, either…

Not for the first time, Uryu wondered how other people his age dealt with their own memories. If Orihime was the only surviving member of her family, then the girl had plenty of painful thoughts to grapple with on her own. How could she do it? Was she…stronger…?

Uryu shook his head. He could not figure Orihime out. Her optimism in the face of all this _kyodatsu_ …she was a rarity, to be sure. And for some reason, she had singled him out on the first day in the lab, dying to be friends with him. Fuck if he knew why.

“Oh! Well, that’s great to hear, Ishida-kun!” Orihime seemed even happier in the face of his stupid lie. “By the way, can I borrow some of your notes from Ukitake-sama’s last lecture? I can’t seem to make any sense of the ones I wrote…”

“Of course,” Uryu said quickly, dropping his letter in the flap without ceremony. “I’ll give them to you tomorrow before seminar.”

“Thank you so much! Your notes are always so clear and so neat…I wish I could be more like you, Ishida-kun!” 

“Um, yes, well…” Uryu cleared his throat awkwardly. He nodded and said, “Anytime. I’m glad to be…helpful.” 

Orihime prattled on for a few more moments about how she was the one putting him out by asking. Uryu was never quite sure how to handle her when she got like this, so he continued politely the same way he had been raised until it was time to say goodbye.

“Well, good night, Inoue-san.” He bowed curtly and turned to leave.

“Good night! Sleep well, you know how complicated Hachigen-sama can be with his lectures…”

It was true, and they had Hachigen’s advanced Microbiology seminar at eight o’clock the following morning. Uryu loathed microbiology. He hated all the mandatory prerequisites in the biology field, actually. They were such a waste of his time…

Uryu had gone to Gekkouban as a very decided, very declared chemistry major. He would buck up and take whatever was required, but Uryu held chemistry in his heart as the thing (the one true science) he would pursue no matter what. Yet, Gekkouban required almost two full years of biology courses in order to pursue his chemistry degree. So he had to endure constant comments from his professors about his uncanny knack for cellular study, his quick knife-hand in a mock-surgery, or his keen eye for singling out the diseased strand in a string of RNA. 

Uryu was careful to explain his skill on his sewing, (“Oh, it’s similar to cutting fabric, oh my eyes are honed from bending over my sewing needle,”). He refused to mention his father Ryuken, who had been a renowned doctor (before the war). Because, regardless of what anyone said, Uryu refused to become a doctor! Not like his father, and not like…him… 

_“Straighten out your carving hand, Uryu!”_ Golden eyes gleaming behind white glasses. _“My god, you could barely manage to gut a fish with that weak stroke…”_

_“Are we not supposed to keep the cadaver intact, Granz-taichou? Instead of gutting it…?"_

_“Yes, of course we are, idiot.”_ Pink hair wagging irritatedly by a pointed chin. _“That’s why I’m going to show you how to carve properly…”_

A strange flash of excitement in that man’s eyes, every time he needed to use a knife for something (even mundane, non-surgical related things). Uryu had seen his fair share of biologists, and he wanted absolutely nothing to do with that sadistic mess of a science. 

He was meant to be a chemist, damn it! Slaving away over a bunsen burner, assembling and re-assembling molecules…these were things he could live with.

After saying good night to Orihime, Uryu turned to go back to his dorm. He thought he could make it if he just kept his eyes locked forward the whole time, unflinchingly, without even so much as glancing at the red in his peripheral vision. 

“Oh, Ishida-kun?” 

Damn it, what did she want? Uryu wanted to be accommodating of his friend (arguably his only friend at the university), but he had only just managed to steel himself for the walk back when Orihime called out to him again.

“Yes?” He tried to keep his tone civil.

“I was thinking…maybe I could just come over and get the notes now?” Orihime tilted her head to the side invitingly. “Maybe we could spend some time reviewing for Hachigen-sama’s class tomorrow as well.”

A clear invitation, something any man his age (twenty-six, no hint of wifely prospects twinkling on the horizon) would jump at the chance to say yes. Not that he assumed Orihime was coming over for…that…he blushed just thinking about that! But it was a chance to get closer to her, even on a friendship level. A smart thing to accept, the right thing to do…

“My apologies, Inoue-san.” The words tumbled out of his mouth nonetheless. “But I have to go to run some errands now. I’ll be off campus for a few hours…”

“Oh…” For once, Orihime’s face fell. “You’re going out now, Ishida-kun? …Now?”

Her eyebrows gathered together as she asked the question. To be fair, no one left campus after dark. It simply was not done, what with all the yakuza activity that went down at night (such things happened in the daytime as well, but in the day the gangsters were careful to sidestep the roaming US soldiers or any middling presence of law that came around as well). Unless you were going out to deal (buy or sell), everyone did their best to stay indoors past dark.

“Er, yes…” Uryu managed, readjusting his glasses. “I am missing some basic essentials and I need to go to market. Shouldn’t be too long…”

Why the hell was he saying all this? In truth, Uryu had no desire to be off campus this late anyway, but here he was, suggesting he would do just that! And now that Orihime was watching him, that confused look on her face, he would have to follow through and leave…or else look like an even stranger person…

“I see…” Orihime said slowly. “Well, I guess if you have to, then…go ahead…But please, be very careful, Ishida-kun!” 

“I will be, of course. But there’s no need for concern. See you tomorrow, Inoue-san.”

“Yeah, see you…?” 

Uryu could hear the lift at the end of that sentence, an uncertain question. He ignored it and changed direction to head towards the street.

___________________________________________________________

The Gekkouban Institue of Science was tucked away within the Nerima District, a nondescript special ward of Tokyo City. Much of this district had been reduced to rubble during air strikes, and the municipality still had a long way to go with rebuilding—especially along the western edge of the district. Gekkouban, though far away from that part of town, was flanked by hastily built, single-story row houses. Many people, including refugees, resided within. 

The houses were quiet at night. Mostly. Except for the occasional high pitched cry—which Uryu was careful never to accurately place (a cry of pain? emotional anguish? sex? drugs? …still something else?). Everyone just pretended these cries did not exist. Acknowledging them meant acknowledging the people inside, the things that had been done…

So, Uryu kept his head down and walked along the row houses. Several blocks on, the houses gave way to a wide open square that served as Nerima’s marketplace. Many things could be bought here, clothes, food, extra ration-coupons. Women. (Uryu was surprised, though not very, by how open that business had become now. Women sold themselves in the middle of the square to wide-eyed American soldiers. And, beyond all reasons, they seemed to be enjoying themselves.) 

If one travelled a few more steps down the alley towards the ration-station, there were even more delights. Row houses that served as the front for opium dens. Bars with illegal mahjong dens in the back. People willing to buy ration coupons for half price and resell them for twice price. You could buy things that had been commonplace before the war, and were now luxury items: Foreign liquor, silks, perfumes, shampoo, bread, and even kerosene oil. 

Anything made overseas had been completely banned under by the government during wartime. National resources wore out quickly. Everyone was afraid to talk about the bad things that way (you never knew who was listening, who might report you to the authorities for a lack of “nationalistic spirit”), but finally getting to see real silver again after years and years of substituting porcelain…people nearly lost their minds with greed. 

Not that Uryu had ever been down that alley. He tried not to be party to yakuza affairs. 

…Well, alright, he had been there once or twice. Once for an extra sack of rice when the ration station ran out (him along with about a hundred other people). The other time was for liquor. Uryu would admit he enjoyed the taste of foreign liquor, especially Russian vodka. The stuff smelled like the rubbing alcohol he kept in the lab, which was appealing in its own right, and it was so…efficient. Vodka was so good at getting him drunk enough to sleep without dreaming, to pull away the harsh net of reality that kept him trapped, on edge every second, until he had only the numb stuff on the inside left. 

A good way to be.

But, Uryu was careful not to rely too much on alcohol. He knew about the dangers of self-medicating. Addiction, and so forth. He had seen the drunkards in the street. He knew which professors at university enjoyed their drink far too much and far too frequently to be considered healthy. Uryu had no desire to join their ranks.

Even so, a little indulgence from time to time was not so terrible. It kept him looking forward to something. And a quick swig from the bottle on bad nights kept him sane.

Uryu glanced around the market, which had long since closed up shop. His only choice, if he actually wanted to do some shopping, was to go down that alley. Maybe he would buy a bottle with his meager savings, store it away until the holidays…

As he stood, trying to resist temptation, a US military jeep roared down the road a few feet ahead of him. There were two soldiers in full green garb standing and leaning out the edge of the jeep. They were hollering, as if out for a night drive. Uryu ducked into the alley on instinct—not at all wanting to be singled out for attention by these soldiers for any reason. They could nail him with a fine for being out past curfew (the compulsory curfew the US had tried to implement), or for appearing drunk (even though Uryu had not had a drop to drink in almost two weeks). Or worse, they could cajole and threaten him into joining their escapade around town and who knew where Uryu would end up—

These things were all known to happen.

So Uryu pressed himself into the doorway while he waited for the noisy jeep to pass. He waited until the red glow from the taillights disappeared around a corner, then he finally took a few steps out.

Here was the alleyway where most of the yakuza did their business. There was really only one clan known around the streets, the Kurosaki yakuza family. Everyone knew their name and respected them—mostly, the Kurosaki group was considered rather fair and people-minded. A champion of the people in some respects.

Again, in some respects. Uryu knew not to forget that fact. They were criminals. And they could be brutal to people who operated on their turf without their permission, or people who did not bend the knee and ask for protection right away. Likewise, they could be brutal to even worse gangsters who hurt the people the Kurosakis claimed to protect. 

Uryu was not stupid enough to think that the world could operate without the Kurosaki group. They were a necessary facet of Nerima. 

Even now, Uryu was well aware of a few men wearing foreign suits and strolling around the streets. Not so much strolling, perhaps skulking was a better word. It was all relative. Some were smoking cigarettes, some were walking in and out of bars mid-conversation. Some were clearly already drunk or high.

“Fucking…”

Uryu heard a guttural voice barking out the word from somewhere farther down the road. It sounded nearby, but not too close. The harshness of that word cut into the crispness of the cool night, sending a shiver up Uryu’s spine.

A groan and a dull thud accompanied the word. That thud…Uryu recognized it as the sound of a body hitting the pavement. Several more rough bangs followed, a steady pounding.

“Fucking asshole. I thought I told you…”

All the noise sounded like it was coming from behind a tall building that served as the front to a known opium den. Every shred of instinct Uryu owned told him to run in the opposite direction, to get out before anyone saw him.

This was a beating. He could recognize that much at least. 

“Ah…ha…”

That. Uryu’s heart froze for a second. The pitch of that voice…

“Shut up! Stay down!”

“So…predictable…” 

Uryu heard himself gasp. He would recognize that voice anywhere. His feet were running in the direction of the brawl before he could even think about stopping himself. 

Luckily, he was able to press up against the corner of the row house before he completely revealed himself. Peaking around the edge of the building, Uryu got a full view of the scene. 

This was not a brawl at all. It was a beat down, pure and simple. A man lay face first against the pavement, at the center of a group of men in suits. One man, wearing a feathered fedora and black suit, blue hair peaking out from underneath his hat, stood kicking the defenseless man’s side. Several harsh jabs to his ribcage, and the blue-haired man’s patent leather shoes got scuffed from his efforts.

“Predictable my ass,” the fedora-wearing man spat out. “If you knew what was gonna happen here, you shoulda never come back. I thought we made this clear to your dumb ass the last time!”

“Your skill…is strength…that’s all.” The man on the ground lifted his head and smiled a crazed, full-toothed grin at the blue-haired man. “I am not at all afraid of mere strength.” 

“Huh,” the blue-haired man grunted. “You should be.” 

Uryu watched as the gangster delivered several more rough kicks to the smart-mouthed man on the ground, adding some punches and some stomps for good measure. He could not help flinching in sympathy as he registered the force behind those blows. 

Furthermore…the vision of that face, that insane grin combined with a reckless, golden-eyed stare—Uryu’s world blurred around the edges as that face sent a ripple of recognition throughout his body.

He knew that face.

Szayelaporro Granz.

Uryu closed his eyes. Now it was…1944. 

_The pristine whiteness of the laboratory glared sharply in Uryu’s vision, making him almost feel like he could not see. He readjusted his glasses for the umpteenth time, trying to watch the head scientist’s hand as he mixed several chemicals at once._

_“Are you watching carefully, Uryu?” his superior growled. “Because I’m only going to show you once.”_

_Uryu knew, how could he ever forget, how much Granz-taichou hated being monitored by a subordinate. Sure, the higher-ups from the military had assigned Uryu there as a safety precaution more than anything—ever since the time when Granz locked himself in the laboratory and refused to come out for a week straight. The scientist proclaimed up and down that he was testing the effects of a new muscular modification drug that would weaken if the patient was exposed to oxygen._

_But oxygen was…a non-negotiable in terms of laboratory conditions._

_Several members had been reassigned after that (mostly people who were completely unable to work with Granz, whom the higher-ups seemed to find incredibly useful). Uryu was a straggler from the front lines who was reassigned to the medical division after the superiors learned about his family’s background in medicine, especially his father’s name. He was the perfect candidate for an assistant to throw at Granz, make sure he did not try any wayward experiment that might cost the army more than it stood to gain. And, you know, report back on Granz’s work to the superiors whenever they asked._

_So Granz looking at Uryu with hate in his golden eyes was nothing if not ordinary. Uryu could only watch breathlessly as the head scientist etched out his findings in his journal, noting any reactions from the chemical compound with extreme precision._

_“Do you see it?” Granz demanded, breaking into a smile as the compound started to smoke and turned a shade of brown. “It’s oxidizing already. Can you comprehend what that means, Uryu? Can you even imagine?”_

_Granz looked up to the ceiling, his pink hair swinging along his shoulders. His smile turned into such a wide grin that the scientist looked like a wild cat baring his teeth to some prey._

_While Uryu watched, Granz’s eyes slid back to his assistant. “Write this down, Uryu! Don’t just stand there!”_

_Uryu picked up a pen without hesitation. He always followed Granz’s orders on the dime when the scientist got into a mood like this. Part of that was self preservation, (who knew what Granz might do if he hesitated), and part of it was…_

_Fascination. Watching Granz work was mesmerizing._

_“One: Compound A is amenable to fusion with a basic, non-acidic mixture of phenobarbital and enzyme X,” Granz started rambling off discoveries about his creation. “Two: This new mixture, which we will call Compound C, oxidizes at a rate of several milliliters per nanosecond, unseeable to the normal human eye…”_

_Normal human. Granz was always clarifying his humans in terms of normal and…other. Uryu never stopped wondering where Granz classified himself among those categories._

_He knew how the military viewed him, at least: Necessary, but cracked. The higher-ups believed Granz had suffered a breakdown somewhere along the way because of stressful conditions in the foreign laboratories, and his own weak composition. Now he was a loose canon, an oddity with unstable tendencies…who just might create the next A-bomb._

_Uryu admitted that the last part of that might be true; Granz could very well make some kind of earth-shattering breakthrough with his work. To whatever end._

_But he also knew that if there was anything crazy about Granz, that part of him had nothing to do with the war. That’s just how Granz was._

“And this time…I MEAN IT!” 

Uryu snapped back to the present. He blinked hard a few times, feeling his heart rate speed up dangerously fast as his body went into panic mode. 

No, no, he told himself. Be here, right now. It’s 1950…that was six years ago…Tokyo…Granz was sentenced to prison by a military tribunal back in ’45, there’s no way that’s him.

Uryu opened his eyes and saw the man on the ground, doubled over now, his arms around his stomach. The fedora-wearing man had given him a bone-crunching kick, surely breaking something. Uryu could hear, even from this distance, how that man’s breathing had turned to wheezing, the crackling sound of blood in his throat distorting his breath. Perhaps his lungs were punctured…

“Stay the hell out of Kurosaki’s turf,” the blue-haired pronounced, cracking his knuckles menacingly. “If we catch you practicing around here again, _doc_ , yer dead.”

Sneering in disgust and amusement, the blue-haired man turned and walk away. His group trailed behind him dutifully, patting him on the back like sycophants. Annoyed, the blue-haired man shrugged them off. He walked past Uryu without even realizing, strolling off into the night. 

Once they left, Uryu peered curiously back at that man on the ground. He took one step towards him, unsure if he should get any closer. 

The man started flopping around on the pavement. He twisted to one side, whimpered in pain, then to the other side. He moved in a strange kind of slow motion. It looked as if he was using almost all his energy just to keep breathing.

Leave now, Uryu willed himself. Leave and just go back to campus like you planned, let this whole crazy night go…

“Breathing rate of…three…four…breaths every five seconds. Heart rate…ow, ow…at sixty percent…”

Uryu exhaled and realized this man was taking stock of himself in those terms. He kept whimpering quietly under his breath as he did so, but he would not stop the analysis…

…Yeah, this was Granz. Uryu had no idea how, but this was definitely him.

Did that give him a reason to stay? Uryu fought with himself. So, here was his ex-military officer, face first on the ground, groveling in pain, looking like he had not eaten a decent meal in quite some time. Seriously, Uryu could see Granz’s collarbones peaking out from his coat, the faint hint of his chest bones long with it. Also, was Granz not wearing a shirt underneath that coat? Besides that, his normally vibrant pink hair looked a dull orange in this light. Upon inspection, that appeared to be from a lack of washing.

So his crazy, convicted criminal of a former superior was here. Clearly fallen on hard times. That did not mean he needed to help him! Granz probably deserved all of this for the crimes he committed in the Philippines—

“Legs…immobile. Arms…occupied. Blinking, seeing…where is that shine coming from? …Sparkling has returned with an increased dullness of about twenty percent…”

Sparkling? Uryu frowned. The hell was Granz talking about? He watched as the man wheezed another breath and started coughing violently towards the end.

Damn it all, thought the student. How could he turn his back on this man who might very well die of a punctured lung if he left him? That would just add Granz to the pile of destruction left in the wake of all this terrible mess. Sure, Granz may have deserved to die…

…But then, didn’t they all? Didn’t Uryu deserve to die as well?

“Sparkling…faster than slower. Here and then gone…breath rate slowing…” 

Fuck it, Uryu was no god or judge. And he could not very well leave a dying man in the middle of the street—not after everything, not now when it was all supposed to be over.

Uryu ran to Granz’s side before he had any more time to think.

Kneeling down over his former superior, Uryu held out his hands to try and brace Granz in some way. The man might need to be carried. But…could Uryu pick him up, just like that? 

It did not look like Granz even knew that he was not alone. He had not shifted at all since Uryu came to him.

“Granz-taichou,” Uryu said quietly, trying to get the man’s attention. 

“…Mmmm….” Granz muttered. It sounded like a moan somewhere between pain and confusion. 

Heart breaking at the pathetic sound (damn it, this was Granz! He should not even care!), Uryu put his arm around the scientist’s shoulders. 

“Granz-taichou, come on. Let’s get out of here before they come back.”

“Mmm…uh…” Granz started to shiver in his arms. “Shining…twice behind the eyes…” 

“Szayelaporro!” Uryu cried, very concerned now. “Come on, listen to me!”

In a panic, Uryu held Granz’s shoulders and forced him to look up at him. Granz’s eyes were unfocused, eyelids flickering. His head lolled on his shoulders and Uryu got his first good look at his former superior’s face. Smeared with dirt in several places, Granz had gotten alarmingly thin. One of the lenses in his white glasses was lightly cracked, making him look every bit the mad scientist he always was.

But Uryu had never seen Granz looking like this. Normally, the scientist was extremely finicky about his appearance, fastidious about dressing well and keeping himself neat, presentable. To let it get to this…Granz must have been struggling for quite some time.

Also, Uryu could clearly see how Granz was bare-chested underneath his coat. Not even a shirt? Unthinkable for this kind of man.

Uryu lightly gripped Granz’s chin and held up his face for a better look. The scientist’s skin was alarmingly cold to the touch. Without thinking, Uryu brushed the matted bangs from Granz’s face and tried to make eye contact with him. Still, the scientist could not focus.

Just then Uryu registered his superior’s smell. Nothing like his old smell (not that Uryu remembered, but for some reason he always associated Szayelaporro with citrus, some thickly sweet mango or passion fruit), the scientist just smelled…well, awful. Like wet pavement, grime, and unfiltered human (pure person that has gone unwashed and uncared for). His clothes smelled like smoke…a dizzying kind of smoke.

Uryu realized that Granz smelled like an opium den. So, his former superior was high, then. 

From the looks of it, the opium was just starting to hit him now. Perhaps the gang caught him in the den after he took his first hit. It would explain the rambling. A shining light, something sparkling? Probably a drug-induced hallucination.

Uryu sighed, closing his eyes. He felt a slithering sense of grief (of all things) crawl across his body. Granz, an opium addict? How in the hell? Granz was normally such a control freak…

“…Uryu?” 

Suddenly, the student’s eyes snapped open. Granz was staring at him—directly at him, this time—behind eyelids that kept trying to flutter close. It looked like the scientist was fighting to stay awake, to keep his eyes trained on the bespectacled man in front of him.

“Granz-taichou!” Uryu gasped. “Yes, it’s me. Can you…hear me?” 

“…Uryu…” Granz took another wheezing breath, moaned in pain and grabbed onto Uryu’s shoulders with one surprisingly strong hand. “…Uryu…listen to me. Take this down, make yourself useful…” 

“No, Granz-taichou—”

“Shut up!” Granz’s eyes widened in anger, a rage Uryu had seen countless times. “Listen to me when I’m talking! Now, get your pen and write all this down, idiot… My pursuit of the sparkling in the corner of my eye ends in failure once more. It shines quickly twice, then stops, then a third time, behind my eyeball itself…” 

Uryu hung his head in defeat for a moment. Apparently Granz recognized Uryu and remembered what Uryu’s job used to be—so, in his delusion, the scientist felt it appropriate to dictate his hallucinations to Uryu for further study. 

Unbelievable. And yet…it made sense. For someone like Granz, whom Uryu hated to admit (would never admit out loud) that he knew well.

“…Are you getting all this, Uryu?” Granz snapped, his eyes closing for longer now, his grip weakening.

“Yes, Granz-taichou. I have it, it’s all here. Now, let’s try to stand up, ok?” With that, Uryu wrapped Granz’s (rather foul-smelling) arm around his own shoulder and hoisted the scientist to his feet.

“Ahhh….!” Granz cried out in what had to extreme pain, if he could feel it in his altered state. 

“I’m sorry,” Uryu said hastily, trying to force Granz to put all his weight on him so that the scientist did not need to stand. “Just…let me…”

“Nnnn…” 

After that strange sound, Granz collapsed on top of Uryu. He seemed still semi-conscious (entirely high, as it were), but his limbs appeared temporarily useless. All for the better, probably, so Uryu could carry him. 

And Granz was alarmingly light. Uryu hardly need to strain to hold him upright.

Now, where could he take him? The hospital was the best answer. But those facilities were overrun with refugees, notoriously understocked with supplies. He would have to take him to an American base if he wanted Granz to have any kind of real medical help… 

But then, Granz was a convicted war criminal. If he handed him over to the Americans, then…what might they do? 

Fuck, this whole thing was crazy. Just crazy! How on earth had all this happened in one night?

Well, Uryu supposed if the pacific war proved anything, it proved that the world was a lot smaller than people originally thought. Now, here was even more proof.

“Six…then four…” Granz mumbled against Uryu’s shoulder.

Shaking his head, the student realized his only option. The only way he could ensure Granz got actual medical attention was if he treated the scientist himself. The university had plenty of bandages and medicinal equipment. Uryu kept a stockpile in his room as a matter of safety (old habit, what with having grown up in constant danger of air raids). He would be able to treat Granz there.

And then what? Keep him in his shanty room until…something happened?

Damn it. Damn it. …Damn it!

But he had no other choice. Really.

So, Uryu gathered his former superior in his arms and began the walk back to campus. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's the opening! Hope there wasn't too much backstory. But these guys are coming from a really specific place, so that's kind of important too (plus so much fun to add).
> 
> Chapter two is in the works! I am praying for more time to write these upcoming weeks (even though it is getting busy by me).


	2. Voice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More memories come to the surface as Uryu begins to realize what he's let back into his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah. This story has basically gone out of control, as they all tend to do. Chapter limit is a formality. I'll probably keep adding :)
> 
> Notes:  
> *About erotic photography: Japanese erotic depictions were strongly rooted in shunga and ukiyo-e paintings (woodblock style paintings). However, at the beginning of the 20th century, European (notably French) artists created a style of photography that was purposefully erotic using candid cameras and 35 mm film (done on a compact camera commonly known as an Ur-Leica, a German design). The effect was mostly just naked women (or men) against some kind of mundane backdrop. During WWII there was a wide-reaching spread of culture, including these kinds of photographs. So they went all over the world and were particularly popular (in an underground, hush-hush kind of way) because of the newness of the idea. The photos that Uryu is talking about are in this same style. I’m really interested this kind of early eroticism (heh, obviously), so I wanted to put it in here! Relevant to the period.  
> Check out some examples (warning: NSFW): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erotic_photography#/media/File:Akt_mit_Schuhen.jpg https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Erotic_photography#/media/File:Erotic_postcard_J.Mandel.jpg

**Chapter Two: Voice**

It was a miracle Uryu made it back to his room with Granz without running into any more trouble. By now, the student had cursed his luck several times over; finding the ex-military officer by pure chance alone constituted sizable bad karma. But perhaps, all things considered, bad karma made sense for him. Maybe for both of them.

If this was payback, Uryu would just need to grit his teeth and bare it.

So, tramping through his tiny shack, Uryu laid Granz gently down on his own western-style bed. Just the thought made his skin crawl (Granz was far from clean, after all, that much was painfully obvious from the beginning…exactly what kind of grime was he inviting on his only pair of sheets?), but he could hardly put Granz on the floor. It would be…uncouth, and almost cruel considering the scientist’s beat up state. 

First things first, Uryu would need to treat Granz’s wounds. The student sighed and flipped the light switch near the door, testing to see if the electricity worked. Of course, nothing happened. Rolling blackouts and shoddy, hastily installed electrical work meant that actual lighting was a rarity in the campus dorms.

Uryu begrudgingly started lighting candles around his room. It was already so late, he hated to use up matches and candlesticks like this. Once his store ran out, he would just have to sit in the dark at night. A grim prospect.

With the interior of his hovel quietly bathed in a warm yellow glow, Uryu gathered his stockpile of medical supplies and sat down on the bed next to Granz. It was compulsory for him to store bandages, gauze, and some standard low-grade medicines (penicillin, rubbing alcohol, styptic, etc). After growing up in the era of spontaneous air raids, it had been ingrained in Uryu to always be prepared. 

He learned most of triages skills in the army. (Except for sewing. That was a personal interest.)

Adjusting his glasses and taking a deep breath, Uryu looked over at Granz. By now, his former superior was in such a sedated state he could be called unconscious. Uryu knew the effects of opium included this; people under its influence would be languid for hours on end. He understood that this lethargy was part of the drug’s appeal—a state of unawareness where people could imagine some better world, or some much needed total numbness.

He wondered which Granz sought: Numbness or fantasy? Uryu sighed and rolled up his sleeves. Having known his officer in the war, he really felt Granz was delusional enough without the influence of drugs. This was just overkill.

Szayelaporro Granz’s limbs were splayed in all directions. His glasses had gone slightly askew and his orange-looking hair (really salmon-color, Uryu noted, like pink cloth that had been dyed lighter by the sun or by bleach, stiff like straw) lay in matted clumps around his face. 

His natural finickiness for cleanliness—something he and Granz had shared in the past—reared its head inside Uryu. He made a mental list of things he would need to do for Granz.

This was for both their sakes, he told himself. Granz could not just lay there in his own filth.

Steeling himself against the smell wafting from his drug-addled superior, Uryu slowly unbuttoned Granz’s coat. The brown cotton was sticky from some unknown source (something from the opium den perhaps? General muck from the streets?). Uryu undid all the buttons and carefully pulled Granz’s stick-thin arms from the sleeves. He balled up the coat and tossed it to the floor. 

Sure enough, Granz was not wearing any kind of shirt underneath his coat. He lay on Uryu’s bed bare-chested, naked to the waist. Uryu paused for a moment as he took in the sight.

Beyond the cuts and bruises he had sustained from that gangster, Granz looked like he had endured quite a number of hardships. First of all, he was thin enough to be considered skeletal. His ribs and chest bones poked out unflatteringly against his pallid skin. Without thinking, Uryu ghosted his fingers across Granz’s sternum in awe—when was the last time he had seen someone this skinny?

Well, in the Philippines. There, Chinese and south Asian prisoners of war were held in the laboratory barracks that were nothing more than jail cells. Uryu had seen men and women, dead and alive, who were this skinny and worse—

_A man screaming at him in an unfamiliar, coarse language. He pounded on the door to his cell, clearly making some demand that Uryu could not understand. Their eyes locked as Uryu looked on helplessly..._

No, none of that now. Uryu shook his head hard to wrench himself back to reality. Tokyo, Nerima District…1950… 

That man died a long time ago, Uryu told himself. Now he could only help whoever was in front of him.

Pulling his fingers back from Granz’s chest as if burned, Uryu inspected the broken ribs on Granz’s left side. It looked like two ribs had broken clean in half from that gangster’s kick, and there was heavy bruising across the whole area, but none of the skin had been pierced. Uryu could instead clearly see the two split halves of bone underneath Granz’s paper-like skin. He had no way of knowing if some bone had shattered along the split edges, but from the looks of it, Uryu figured he could do his best to fix the damage.

It would be a long healing process, though. Uryu knew that much. And this next part would be painful enough to make any grown man scream. 

For once, Uryu was appreciative of Granz’s drug-induced coma.

Carefully placing his fingers on the fracture, Uryu realigned the snapped bones in one quick motion. He grit his teeth in sympathetic pain, grimacing when Granz’s entire body went stiff for a moment. A strangled, incoherent sound escaped the scientist’s mouth. Well, apparently he had felt some of that. Who wouldn’t?

There was still another rib to realign. Uryu took a deep breath, smoothing the skin on Granz’s ribs as if to calm him. 

“I’m sorry I’m sorry….” He muttered apologies under his breath and snapped the second bone back in place with a hair-raising crunch. 

This time, Granz writhed for a moment in pain, moaning underneath Uryu hands. The student felt horrible. The last thing he wanted was to be like one of those doctors (he knew the type, had seen more than his fair share of doctors like that at the laboratory in the war) who got off on giving pain…but then…

Shaking his head against all that, Uryu patted Granz’s body shoulder in reassurance. The scientist’s eyes were squeezed closed, his face twisted into never-before-seen agony.

“My apologies, Granz-taichou,” Uryu said to the unconscious man. “But I think that was the worst of it.”

He rubbed his thumbs along Granz’s collarbones to soothe him. He felt an intense need to erase that look of pain from his superior’s face—however he could. Without thinking, Uryu raised his hand to stroke Granz’s face…

He stopped himself inches away. That was…too much. Granz was a grown man, he did not need to be coddled like a child. And if he was experiencing pain from this wound, then…that was his own karma.

Uryu curled his fingers against his palm and dropped his hand. He needed to stop letting his emotions get the better of him. 

This was Szayelaporro Granz. Not some misbegotten refugee. Uryu could never forget that.

So, affecting the clinical aura he had learned from his father, Uryu wrapped Granz’s torso in gauze. He tied it as tightly as possible to hold the ribs in place. Deciding that was not enough, Uryu quickly made a cinch out of extra thick cloth and wood, tightening the bandages to form against Granz’s unique shape. That cinch would hold, Uryu knew how to make a proper one. He nodded once at a job well done.

The most intense of Granz’s injuries squared away (for now at least), Uryu took stock of the rest of Granz. From here on out, the most troubling problem was cleanliness. The small cuts on his body might get infected if left alone.

So, Uryu gathered a small pot and filled it with water from the sink on the outside of his house. This shack still had old fashioned plumbing, so it required him to pump to make water flow, but Uryu was used to this by now. He went inside with the pot full of water, some washcloths, and a half of a bar of soap.

Uryu lathered the washcloth in soap and water and regarded Granz with a quizzical look. He ran the cloth over Granz’s bruised skin gently, starting with the man’s chest and shoulders. Even in the dim light, Uryu could see how he was wiping away a whole layer of dirt, leaving a trail of brown water dripping down the rest of the scientist. Underneath that layer, Granz’s skin was as white as ever.

As he washed the rest of Granz’s body, another memory popped into his head.

_The first time he had seen Granz without a shirt. It was especially hot in the laboratory that day. The monsoon season in the Philippines made even non-rainy days insufferably humid. Uryu fanned himself at Granz’s side while the man poured over a microscope._

_As always, Uryu’s pencil was poised to take more notes. He felt like it had been hours since Granz said anything. He just kept turning the knob on the microscope, every so often holding out his hand to Uryu for a change of slide. How long had he been flipping through the same three slides now?_

_In this heat, Uryu’s glasses kept sliding down the bridge of his nose, slick with sweat. This fan wasn’t doing anything. His white clothes were stained with perspiration under the arms, across the chest, and down his legs—he did not even know legs could sweat!_

_Suddenly, Granz muttered a thick stream of curses in some other language. Spanish perhaps, Granz’s semi-native tongue. He sat back from the microscope and began disrobing, throwing his scientist’s coat haphazardly to the floor, unbuttoning his cotton officer’s shirt underneath and throwing that aside along with it._

_“G-granz-taichou..?” Uryu choked out, suddenly at full attention. He had never seen a man just start ripping his clothes off like that! How…unseemly! “Are you…alright?”_

_“This insufferable heat,” Granz muttered, pushing his sticky hair away from his face. “How is a man supposed to concentrate like this? Unbearable nuisance, impossible conditions…how am I expected to work…”_

_Complaining under his breath, Granz bent down over the microscope again, naked to the waist. He continued fiddling with the instrument as he had before, as if nothing were amiss except the unfavorable temperature._

_Uryu blinked and waited for the scientist to collect himself and apologize, but Granz did nothing of the sort. He quieted down after a while and held out his hand for a change of slide. Uryu handed him the slide with his mouth hanging open._

_So. They were to continue working with Granz half naked. Uryu was beginning to understand why people called Granz eccentric. He knew these foreign conditions did strange things to people, but this was over the line. What if there were women working here…? Thankfully, it was just the two of them in the lab at the moment._

_After some time, they faded into silence and study once again. Uryu found himself tracking beads of sweat as they trailed down the center of Granz’s hunched back, in between his shoulder blades. They formed slowly but fell quickly, pooling along the hem of Granz’s pants, staining the fabric there and making Granz’s indented lower back gleam with moisture…_

_“Instead of analyzing my back, Uryu,” Granz barked suddenly. “You should be taking notes. Do I have to dictate everything or can you make some conclusions on your own?”_

_“I…I…” Uryu stammered, futilely pushing up his glasses. He had been caught staring…why was that making him blush? Like a fucking schoolgirl? But, Granz could hardly expect not to be stared at, just sitting there without a shirt like it was normal…and yet, why had Uryu even bothered to look?_

_Granz clicked his teeth in annoyance. “Fine, you useless…How did you ever get the title of assistant? Are you somebody’s nephew or something?”_

_Son, actually, Uryu thought. But no reason to mention that._

_“Never mind, just hand me the next slide and write down which ones I’ve looked at so far.”_

_Clearing his throat in embarrassment, Uryu got up to see the slides Granz had discarded. There was no way he could remember the names of all of them…_

_Granz sighed and shook his head. “Diligence, Uryu. That is what you lack. Now, be thorough when you write those names…”_

Uryu smirked to himself in the dim light of the shed. Granz was always telling him to be more diligent. More thorough. As a twenty-year old man who had yet to graduate from high school, Uryu thought Granz was a tyrant if nothing else. But now, he looked at those memories with a smile. In the labs at Gekkouban, Uryu’s professors praised him for being the most diligent of them all. 

Granz had turned him into a fanatic. It was almost funny.

Now, Uryu carefully washed away the dirt and soap along Granz’s abdomen. He had planned to stop there, but…in light of that memory…

“I will be more diligent, Granz-taichou,” said Uryu with an ironic smile.

He unbuttoned Granz pants, lowered the zipper carefully, and prepared to take off the scientist’s pants. Now Granz would have nothing to say about his performance upon waking—he could picture the scientist stammering, trying to find something to criticize about Uryu’s triage, naked except for a graying pair of underwear. Would Granz even be embarrassed to be seen like that…? Uryu doubted it, but it was amusing to think of Granz with a faint blush tinging his cheeks as he muttered something petty about Uryu’s skills…

When Uryu got Granz’s pants to his knees, his heart stopped in his chest.

Granz was not wearing anything underneath those dirty khakis. The gray underwear in Uryu’s mind had been nothing but a lie, wishful thinking…

Of course.

Turning beet red, mouth dry, Uryu quickly pulled up Granz’s pants without a second thought. He re-buttoned and zipped them, wishing he could go back in time and tell himself never to go there, never to try and get one over on Granz by throwing his precious “diligence” back in his face. That had backfired.

Now Uryu would need to continue to care for Granz pretending he had not just been face to face with the man’s most intimate parts.

And yet every time he blinked, Uryu saw it again. His mind swam and he noticed his breathing became awkward, uneven. 

There was…surprisingly dense pubic hair, untrimmed and untamed, a darker shade of pink than Granz’s hair. Almost red, really. A limp cock listing heedlessly to the left, springing up over the hem of Granz’s pants as Uryu unintentionally exposed it to the air. Uryu was surprised to see that his superior was circumcised. Sure, he knew about Granz’s foreign roots. But it still shocked him to see a circumcised dick up close. All the Japanese men Uryu had seen in bathhouses growing up, as well as Uryu himself, were uncircumcised…it seemed only proper in his mind…

But there was Granz’s bare, cut cock, the head totally visible right from the start. It was not as pink as Uryu’s, he knew, it looked more…rugged somehow. He saw it in his mind’s eye as if the image had been seared there. 

Swallowing and forcing himself to move on, Uryu rang the washcloth out in the pot. Don’t think about it, don’t think about it, he told himself. It’s just a penis. Nothing special about that, after all…it was nothing short of shameful to be thinking this hard about another man’s dick.

Maybe I need to get my head examined after all, Uryu thought.

And yet, Uryu felt he had seen through to some primal, ultimately human part of Szayelaporro. That man—that tyrannical, science-minded, megalomaniacal jerk-off—had a penis. Of course he did. It proved he was, after everything, still a man. 

Uryu felt relieved to know that. Bizarrely.

Or maybe he was just exhausted and overthinking all of this. That was probably the case. He glanced at his pocket watch and saw it was already almost three in the morning. Horribly late, the point where all reason vanished in an unrested man’s mind.

That explained all of this.

Washcloth successfully clean, Uryu thought he would just pass it a few times across Granz’s face and hair. Just to get rid of the smell, to keep him somewhat clean if he would need to lay on Uryu’s bed…

So, he carefully removed Granz’s cracked glasses with one hand. It occurred to him he had never seen Granz’s face without his glasses, not up close anyway. Sometimes the scientist removed his frames to get a closer look at his microscope, but this was rather different. Granz looked older without them. More tired. Uryu could make out wrinkles around Granz’s eyes, evidence of a difficult life. Also, smoking opium was terrible for one’s skin, Uryu knew. So perhaps that was to blame as well.

Bending forward, Uryu carefully parted Granz’s hair away from his face. He passed the washcloth across his forehead, barely even making contact he was being so gentle. Then he wiped the rest of Granz’s face, his two cheeks, his pointed nose, even the top of his lips and chin. 

“Mmm…” Granz mumbled, his lips twitching at the contact. 

Uryu pulled away as if caught in some illicit act. 

Deciding that was more than enough, Uryu lathered his hands to get them as wet and soapy as possible. Then, gritting his teeth against the distaste of having to do this, Uryu massaged Granz’s scalp with surprising intensity. He meant to be quick, but instead he was rather forceful, grimacing as dust and dirt flew out of Granz’s hair as he worked. The more he washed, the pinker Granz’s hair turned at the roots. 

There was something very fulfilling about returning Granz’s hair to its natural color. Uryu decided to go all the way.

He lifted Granz by the shoulders (easy to do with just one hand), and put the pot underneath the back of his head. This way, Uryu could dunk Granz’s hair into the water and thoroughly wash it. He rubbed the stiff strands between his fingers underneath the water, scrubbing the dirt and grime out of it.

When he was done, Uryu lay a spare towel underneath Granz’s head. He smelled quite a bit better now. His hair damp stuck to his scalp like he had just come from a shower. Even though the man was still unconscious, Uryu could not help feeling like his superior looked refreshed.

Surely, this man’s humanity would rejoice to be clean again after so long. (To say nothing of whatever went on below the waist, which Uryu was ashamed to think about.)

Uryu dumped the dirty water outside his door and left the pot in the sink to be washed. He thought it was strangely ironic to be thinking of Granz as an ordinary man, to be counting on Granz’s humanity. With however many years between them, Uryu could not very well say he knew Granz well anymore. 

Still, in just the past few hours, the scientist’s humanity had been laid bare for Uryu. He had a feeling his view of Granz would be changed from now on. For better? Worse? He could not say.

Uryu went back inside and approached his superior one more time. With the wet hair, Uryu was afraid the man might get cold. So, he took a spare blanket from his closet and threw it over Granz’s prone form. As he straightened the edges of blanket (more evidence of his diligence), Uryu caught sight of a black mark against Granz’s neck.

He looked more closely, thinking perhaps he had missed a spot in his washing. But no, that black mark was nothing natural. Uryu could make out a string of numbers put there by human hand.

8-010. A prison tattoo given to war criminals. Uryu had read about such things, but of course, he had never seen an actual convict after the tribunals. These tattoos were the government’s way of marking the criminals for life, warning the public of their crimes, and also making them easy to spot for the authorities. 

Uryu saw the mark there plain as day on Granz’s neck. Yet, there was something unreal about it. This was more evidence than Uryu needed of the time that had passed. This number was what Granz had been reduced to after the Philippines, a symbol of his crimes. Some crimes Uryu had even seen for himself—

Too much. Not now.

Exhausted, Uryu nodded several times (for no real reason) and went to sit at his desk. The sun was already beginning to rise. Should he just stay up or try to get some shut eye before class? Either way he was fucked; Hachigen’s lecture would probably be incomprehensible now with his lack of proper rest. He could feel his mind running in so many directions, torn to shreds from the bizarre night. 

Number 8-010. Uryu wondered what that meant in terms of the prison system. He leaned his head on his hand, massaging the bridge of his nose and trying to silence his own thoughts.

Sitting upright at his desk was, however, one of Uryu’s most comfortable positions. Laying down felt too vulnerable after the war. Sitting up, Uryu knew he could wake up at a moment’s notice if he had to. Such a notion was innately comforting to him…

Just before he drifted off to sleep, that same image popped into Uryu’s mind. As if to torture him. 

Granz nude, with his dick out.

Actually…when the scientist lay like that, naked and sprawled, Granz looked like the subject of an erotic photograph. Uryu had seen several examples of this type of…adult photography (lesbians were a particularly favorite subject among soldiers back in the army). He remembered one particular photograph of two women bathing each other, without any clothes on. Another—one Uryu could never manage to forget—of a woman laying by herself on a western-style bed, arms over her head, breasts and body completely bared. 

Uryu remembered her face quite well. She looked into the camera without shame, wearing an apathetic face that Uryu could only describe as…daring. Daring people to look at her. Her hair was undone, spread out behind her. Her lips were thin but slightly parted, a kind of invitation…

Now Uryu’s exhausted mind replaced the image of his favorite woman with that of Granz. That man’s skinny, womanish body, staring at him with his glasses off, daring Uryu to look…

With that, the student slipped into a dream.

_________________________________________________________

_“Hey, Ishida! Take a look…"_

_Uryu was sitting in base camp, propped up against a tree adjacent to his well-pitched tent. He was currently writing in his diary—a thing Uryu kept for about the first two years of his time in combat. Before all diary writing was banned by the authorities._

_The young solider looked up to see his fellow soldier, a raucous man everyone called Bazz-B, strutting toward him with a book in his hand. Bazz-B had a face on that usually meant he wanted to brag about something. Boasting was a hobby for him, after all._

_“Good to see you reading, Bazz-B,” Uryu called out, closing his own diary. “I expect it’s…something unsavory?”_

_Bazz-B’s smirk only grew wider. “Hell yeah,” he replied. His hand slipped into the book and pulled out several grainy photographs. “Take a look at what I got….”_

_The solider waved the photographs in front of Uryu’s face with his usual swagger.“Come on, come on,” Bazz-B encouraged. “Don’t you want to see…?”_

_“I’m perfectly fine, thank you,” Uryu answered, readjusting his glasses. He knew about Bazz-B’s penchant for erotic photographs. Though Uryu would admit to a certain…appreciation for these things, he would never slobber all over them like the other men did. Or at least, not in front of Bazz-B._

_“Oh, you won’t be! Not once you see this!”_

_With that, the red-haired solider shoved a picture directly in front of Uryu’s face. No avoiding seeing it unless Uryu closed his eyes. So he stared seemingly impassively at the photo. In truth, his heart raced at the thought of what he might see (breasts? a curvaceous backside? Two women thoroughly engaged in licking each other’s…?)._

_But what he saw instead was a man. He stood with his back to the camera, looking over one shoulder. Uryu vaguely remembered seeing something like this before, except there had definitely been a European woman in the photo that time. Not a man, gazing lustfully over at the camera with bedroom eyes, one long piece of silk draped over his backside. Uryu could see some hint of the man’s ass peeking out, just the suggestion of a curve and a crack…_

_“B-bazz-b, wh-what the…?” Uryu’s mind exploded as he took in the sight from this grainy picture—clearly meant to elicit a homoerotic response. “Wh-why do you…have something like this?”_

_“Because it’s hot, right?” Bazz-B said easily. He seemed completely unperturbed at the bizarreness of this, the unnatural-ness of showing a man in such a way…Instead, he flipped through to a second picture_

_Same subject, same guy. He was laying on a fancily decorated bed (Victorian era drapery), arms up, legs spread showing all of his…features. Uryu saw there a circumcised cock and was immediately fascinated._

_So…beautiful… Without thinking, Uryu reached out to take the photograph from Bazz-B._

_This made no sense. Bazz-B was a card-carrying heterosexual, not a man known for any type of…dalliance in that way. And the man in this picture was clearly not a young man, a wakashu, where perhaps some exceptions could be made…Beyond that, Uryu could not explain his own rapidly solidifying fascination with the picture._

_The man in the picture was exotic, in a way. Clearly at least partly a foreigner…And he was slim and pretty, like a woman but…more solid. Less fleshy, more bony._

_Strangely, Uryu felt like he knew him._

_Because he did know him. This was Szayelaporro in that photograph. Granz, his military supervisor. How was he…?_

_Then the picture grew wide and encompassed all of Uryu’s vision. Bazz-B and the rest of base camp fell away and there was only the sepia world of that picture. Uryu blinked and saw suddenly the man was moving his arms, languishing in the silks of the bed like a hedonist. He rolled back and forth, smiling and exclaiming quietly in comfort._

_Uryu’s eyes drifted down to that man’s exceptional cock, which he could see in perfect detail. Was that man getting…hard? Right then, Uryu felt his own arousal begin to spike within him like a rising tide. He was hot all over, heart beating out of his chest, mouth watering…and he knew above all else that he wanted to see this man aroused—what would it look like…?_

_Uryu bit his lip and tried to see…Now there were blankets in the way. Damn it! Uryu reached out to the man, wanting beyond all reason to expose him again. Now Uryu’s own cock was hard, throbbing. He needed to see all of this man…to see his arousal laid bare. It made his stomach clench with desire._

_“Uryu.”_

_Now the man was calling out to him. In a rather familiar voice._

_“Uryu, come here. Take this down…”_

_All of Uryu’s body wanted to go to him, he felt his body tightening with the need to release, already so turned on just by looking at him, just by the thought of him._

_Then suddenly he blinked and they were back in the Philippines. Granz sat across from him, bent over a subject. That is to say, a person._

_“Uryu, come here. Take this down.” Granz pointed at Uryu with his scalpel. “I am administering the compound now…”_

_“Nngh…”_

_At a loss for words, still so thoroughly turned on, but so disgusted—both with Szayelaporro’s lack of regard for human life, and with himself for being so…attracted to him._

_“Nnngh…but I…”_

And so, Uryu fell deeper into sleep. He was constantly torn between nightmarish memories and grainy sexual fantasies. Needless to say, it was a far from a restful slumber. 

____________________________________________________________

Meanwhile, Professor Hachigen’s advanced microbiology seminar began at eight o’clock sharp. 

Inoue Orihime glanced around the lecture hall nervously. Ishida was not present. She remembered his words from the night before with dread. Had Ishida really…gone out last night? Just like that? 

Was he…alright?

Orihime clenched her eyes shut and took a deep breath. She needed to stop thinking like that, always expecting the worst. That time was over, there was no reason to constantly think that her close friends would die just because she hadn’t seen them in a few hours. 

“Psst, Orihime.”

The orange-haired girl felt a pencil’s eraser poking her shoulder. She looked over into the angrily concerned face of Tatsuki.

“You okay?” Tatsuki was whispering, but even her whispers sounded downright pissed.

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine Tatsuki-chan!” Orihime said with a smile. 

“Well you look like someone just walked over your grave. I thought you were shivering—”

“Ahem.”

Professor Hachigen cleared his throat. That meant he had overheard them.

Both Orihime and Tatsuki straightened up, blushing a little. The rest of the class was staring at them too, annoyed at having to stop the lecture.

“Apologies, professor,” the two girls said in unison. They bent their heads over their notebooks and began copying what was written on the chalkboard.

Hachigen nodded politely. “As I was saying, on the topic of pathogens, horizontal transmission occurs between hosts of the same species, in contrast to vertical transmission, which tends to evolve symbiosis…”

____________________________________________________________

The first thing Szayelaporro Granz recognized was the feeling of being on a bed. He noted right away that it was distinctly a western bed. On instinct, he moved his wrists at first to see if he was being restrained. 

His wrists were free.

So, that meant he was not…there. In that place. 

After that, Szayel twisted his body to the left and was met with a pronounced pain that shot along his ribcage and straight into the rest of him. His eyes flew open in response—startled awake from his half sleep at the intensity of that pain. 

His vision met with a small room, covered in the natural light from the mid-morning sun. His glasses were not on his face and the world looked fuzzy as a result. He could make out imprecise outlines of some meager living arrangements, a small counter with a hotplate and cooking supplies, the bed he was laying on, a small writing desk in the corner with a figure seated behind it…

Szayel’s body went stiff. His golden eyes widened then narrowed. Who was that? Where was he and how had he gotten here?

The last thing he remembered…performing surgery. Yes, there was a woman who had come to him with an ulcer. She was an uneducated woman, still claiming the symptoms of the ulcer to be something akin to a familial disposition (the type of ridiculous, backwoods thinking Szayel personally considered shameful to have made its way into the twentieth century). Szayel diagnosed her condition right away and suggested surgery to remove the blighted skin causing her discomfort. 

Honestly, Szayel’s nerves had been tingling with that _need_ long before she got there. He rushed her through the surgery just to be finished with the whole affair.

Even now, he could feel the memory of that need bubbling up underneath his skin. Had he…? Well yes, surely he had. That was the only explanation of why he had no memory of getting here. Wherever this was.

The scientist remembered tapping his foot angrily waiting for the woman to come out of anesthesia. She seemed groggy but thankful, giving Szayel more than the required payment for a blackmarket surgery—and damn if she had that much why did she not just go to the regular hospital? Or to the Americans…?

Then Szayel remembered going to the den. He blinked and remembered the feel of the opium pipe in his hand, bringing it to his quivering lips in the hope of experiencing that _sensation_ …

Not one drag but two. Then three, then four. Four pulls, Szayel made note of it in the back of his mind. Four pulls was what he required now to get that sensation—after the third, he could start seeing the light in the corner of his eye but it was not nearly enough. Four made his stomach feel lighter, his limbs heavier but more…separated, like he could experience the entirety of a moment in suspended time. A single second dragged out to infinity. Szayel wanted to think that such a thing was convenient, perfect for allowing him extra time to contemplate his research but…

In his heart he knew there was no research to be done in those moments. Szayel knew he became completely useless in those moments, caught between reality and the shining world. A world that was not real, he knew, but that he could see and hear and feel so vividly it made him question the validity of “real” as a concept. Perhaps opium, as a drug, was not a mind-altering substance as much as a reality altering substance.

Such things could be possible. Anything was possible. The scientist rubbed his head against his shoulder, unconsciously feeling the tattoo along his neck.

He remembered getting that. Being restrained and branded in such a way. The sting of the needle’s edge, depositing ink in him…

Yes anything was possible. All conceivable things could happen. Did happen.

And already Szayel could feel the tips of his fingers turning cold and itchy with the need for that feeling, that drug. He would need to go back (five pulls this time? Did he dare?) within the next day or two. He would deny himself as long as he could—to enhance the effects of the drug as much as to allow for an accumulation of resources, money and such, that would allow him to experience the drug in the opium den. 

Now, to figure out where he was.

Szayel felt around the bedsheets for his glasses. He did not feel them, could not see properly in the poorly distributed lighting. He did, however, realize that he was covered with a wool blanket. It was soft and warm under here. 

The scientist blinked in uncertainty. A blanket? Then he felt along his ribs and realized his wounds had been treated, bandaged and wrapped in a cinch. 

Wounds? Ah yes, now he remembered. Grimmjow, that pathetic son of a bitch…a display of force. How inconvenient.

Still, who had treated him? Szayel could remember countless times in the past two years of wandering around Tokyo that he had woken up in a variety of…compromising positions. Things he did not care to acknowledge in the light of day. Things he told himself were inconsequential in the end, so long as his body was functional enough to pursue the basic needs of survival: Food, water, respiration, mobility, and drug. These were the only things he needed.

Never, though, had Szayel ever woken up covered in a blanket, laying on a clean bed. On pavement? Sure. The floor of the opium den? Oh yes. In a stranger’s house that possessed…varying degrees of suitability? Indeed.

But warm? Clean? Szayel blinked and ran a hand through his hair. It was damp as if recently washed. His arms and hands looked pale, unhindered by the layer of dirt Szayel had given up on fighting (with how often he lost track of time, it became impossible to create an ablution ritual). 

At a loss, Szayel searched frantically for his glasses. Was he in the hospital? Or worse (bad, bad, unthinkably bad…), with the Americans?

That thought made him struggle to free himself from the confines of the blanket. He fought the inertia of his limbs, still sluggish from the lingering paralysis that came with the shining world, to stand. Sure enough, he fell onto his knees gracelessly when he attempted that. He grimaced and let out an automatic howl. His bones were brittle these days. Not properly padded with flesh. Every blow he could feel right down to the marrow…

He quickly strangled his cry and forced himself to his feet. Now standing, breathing heavily from the exertion, Szayel could see his white glasses resting on a nightstand at the foot of the bed. He quickly retrieved them and shoved them on his face.

Time to go. 

Clarity showed him that the person sitting at the desk was currently asleep. A man, clearly, judging by the length of the hair. Dark, ebony hair cut asymmetrically in a style young people found fashionable (alright, Szayel would admit he thought the style was objectively pleasing, on a man at least). So…a young man? Clearly Japanese, not American.

He let out an uneasy breath, scrambling as quietly as he could towards the door. This place could not—absolutely _could not_ —be an American base! The circumstances of his release from prison (parole with immunity, it was called) required that he never attempt any contact with Americans unless otherwise specified by legal matters. To be found, drug addled and weak, on an American base could very well cost him his freedom. He might be sent back to that place and then—

The man sitting at the desk mumbled something in his sleep. 

“Granz-taichou…”

Szayel’s head whipped around. He knew that voice. Impossible to forget, impossible, impossible…soft and precise, low like a child effecting an adult’s way of speaking, but articulate enough to be considered a man’s voice. 

Uryu?

The scientist peered curiously over at the sleeping man. Glasses, squished against the desk with the rest of his face, delicately angled features that sloped into an unforgettable face.

Sure enough, there was his former lab assistant. Szayel blinked in disbelief and cast his gaze around the small house. Was this…where Uryu lived?

His mind (still sluggish from that other world) conjured up several piecemeal memories of Uryu. In all hells, he had not seen the younger man since…what, 1945? ’44? He was not sure…

No. It was 1945.

_“Shut it down, shut it all down.”_

_The general was running around the laboratory screaming at people to shut down all their experiments. He was telling them to dispose of evidence as if they were criminals, when really, everything they had done there was for the good of the human race._

_How could they simply throw out all their research? Just because the emperor, some stupid idiot who sat on a throne all day while people told him what to do, had surrendered to the Allied forces?_

_Impossible! An unthinkable waste! A travesty unto mankind!_

_“Granz-taichou!”_

_Uryu was speaking to him with an alarmed look an his face that usually meant Szayel had been speaking aloud without realizing it. He turned towards his assistant at the breaking point of his own patience._

_“Don’t just stand there, Uryu!” Szayel shouted. “Gather the petri dishes with bacterial colonies A through H! Take a refrigerator if you can, the microbes must not die!”_

_“Granz-taichou, the general is saying we must get rid of all this.” Uryu straightened his glasses as he did when he was agitated. “It’s over now, the war is over. We just need to focus on getting out of here alive—”_

_“Over?!” Szyael screeched. He gestured expansively to his cabinet of petri dishes and slides, accidentally knocking some over in his haste. “Nothing is over! Has humanity itself been rendered obsolete because the yankees have decided it is so? I think not!”_

_He took a breath to steady himself, golden eyes bouncing from shelf to shelf, gathering flasks in his arms. How much could he carry…?_

_“Don’t you see, Uryu?” He continued, balancing two flasks on his arm and depositing them on a cart. How could he abscond with this cart…? “This research is beyond the boundaries of so-called countries and alliances. This research is meant to advance us as a species! As long as there are humans left in this world, my findings will be needed. I cannot simply dispose of years of hard work because some pea-brained imbeciles tell me the Japanese have lost.”_

_Anger exploded outward through Szayel. He slammed his hands onto the cart n exasperation, rattling the glass flasks._

_“Fuck the Japanese!!” he screamed. “I have no use for them! I must secure these findings until a race emerges that can understand them!”_

_He turned frantically back to his lab assistant. The younger man looked downright terrified in that moment._

_“Help me, Uryu,” Szayel cried, suddenly pleading. “Help me! Let’s take the low-focus microscope with us as well. I’ll take care of the flasks and such, you lift the heavy equipment—”_

_Uryu traversed the distance between them with surprising speed. He grabbed Szayel’s shoulders and forced the scientist to look at him._

_“Granz.”_

_The younger man had brought his voice down, speaking barely above a normal tone. His sapphire eyes burned with a kind of sincerity Szayel could not remember ever seeing before. The scientist stood still, dumbfounded under the cold heat from such a look._

_“Granz,” Uryu said again, shaking the other man’s shoulders slightly. “Where can we go? There’s nowhere to go. We’re in the middle of the Philippines, in a jungle surrounded by ocean. What are you planning to do…?”_

_Szayel glanced to the floor. He needed a plan. They were in the Philippines, at least Szayel could speak the language. They could abscond, together, into the heart of a nearby town. He put the plan together in seconds, imagining Uryu trotting along dutifully at his side. Uryu would carry the heavier equipment Szayel could not while the scientist persuaded the locals to harbor them. Surely he could convince some village simpletons to give them sanctuary._

_Then, of all things, Szayel grinned at Uryu. He grabbed the younger man’s shoulders in return, heedless of the bewildered expression on his assistant’s face._

_“It’s all handled, Uryu,” the scientist confirmed. “I have it all in order. Just follow me and do as I say, alright? I trust that—”_

_He was speaking quietly and they were quite close to each other. Their noses were mere inches apart and they could feel each other’s breaths as they spoke._

_But that quiet was shattered instantly as the door to the laboratory was suddenly kicked in by a thick G.I. boot. Several green-clad marines flooded into the lab, guns ready to fire, shouting directions in coarse English._

_“Get on the ground! Move! Hands behind your head!”_

_Szayel could make out most of what these American soldiers—who had so rudely interrupted and broken several of his flasks already as they clomped through his lab—were saying, but he did not know if Uryu spoke any English. Still, his assistant was on his knees instantly, bracing his hands behind his head and lowering his chest to the floor._

_Ultimate submission._

_As he saw that, his faithful assistant yielding under the muzzle of many rifles, Szayel’s restraint snapped._

_“Bastards!!” The scientist picked up a flask full of life-threatening microbes and held it high above his head. “A show of force is not nearly enough to make me surrender these findings to you pricks!! I’ll destroy us all in a heartbeat if it means—”_

_“Stop him, stop him!”_

_Then Szayel was surrounded by soldiers. One slammed the butt of his rifle in between Szayel’s shoulder blades, forcing him to collapse. Breathing heavily, another soldier carefully pried the flask from Szayel’s weakened fingers and placed it down on the table._

_“Jesus fuck…” the man began. “Close call.”_

_The solider behind him delivered several more rough blows with his gun, keeping Szayel from getting up off the floor. The leader of the American soldiers grunted more orders and the scientist was lifted to his feet and slapped with metal handcuffs. They grabbed him underneath his armpits and carried him off like a criminal._

_Like a criminal._

_Seeing the distance between him and his research rapidly growing, Szayel started screaming and thrashing like a wild animal. He cried about the injustice of being separated from his findings, demanded congress with the American president, the United Nations, the Japanese delegates in the service of the army, anything he could think of…but the soldiers kept him restrained, carried him away. They either did not understand or did not care what he had to say._

_His panicked eyes fell on Uryu at last, who was looking at him with such an…expression on his face._

_Pain? Szayel recognized that look as pain. It made him pause his ravings as soon as he saw it. The Americans were not even laying a hand on him, so why was Uryu in pain…?_

After that Szayel, was dragged away to the American prison camp. And the rest…well. 

That was the last time Szayel had ever seen Uryu. That pained look on his face. He would not soon forget such a thing. It made his heart freeze with uncertainty whenever he remembered that moment. Such chaos, the living heartbreak of being separated from his research, and then Uryu’s face.

The scientist blinked and regarded Uryu in the present. Even in sleep that young man wore an impenetrable frown on his face that was so integral to his character…Szayel felt the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile to see it again.

“Uryu…” Szayel said quietly, amused now to have found his former subordinate here. Of all places here, in Japan. 

What an unexpected turn of events. But not…entirely unwelcome.

“Uryu.” Szayel spoke again. This time he meant to add the younger man’s family name. He opened his mouth, “……” …What was his family name, again? Szayel had only ever called him by his given name so he had no memory of the boy’s last name.

Then, before his eyes, Uryu grumbled again in his sleep and slowly began to wake up. As soon as he saw those sapphire orbs peeking out from underneath Uryu’s tired eyelids, Szayel was transfixed.

Those eyes searched. He looked around and settled on the scientist, slowly realizing his superior was also awake and that now they were staring at each other. Staring at each other again, after five years and an unreal amount of living…

“Granz-taichou.” Uryu sat up rigidly, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “Good…morning.”

Szyael’s face slowly broke out into a grin. “Uryu. It’s good to see you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! This one takes a lot of concentration, working the fine line between the terrible past and the still terrible present while making our guys have that connection... But I'm beginning to adore them. 
> 
> Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon! A note on my personal life, I am getting married next weekend and after that I will be on honeymoon for about two weeks. (To Japan, actually, the mother land for these fics I guess??) So I'm going to try to post more of this before I go, so that there's not too much of a gap in updates! 
> 
> Just a heads up :)


	3. Traits, Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Szayel's backstory, and the extent of his condition, are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, all! Sorry for the long delay, but...I'm a married woman now :) :) (We put a ring on it, lol.) So that's why it took some time! 
> 
> As for the story, I'm tearing through some of this and it is already way longer than anticipated. I think this one is the last fairly dark chapter--after this, I want it to go in a bit of a lighter direction :)
> 
> Notes:  
> In reference to the military tribunals that occurred for Japanese war criminals: Yeah, so, there’s a lot of history here. I’m alluding to some practices that went down during the military tribunals from 1945 through 1949. As far as what Szayel experiences here, all these things were done to Japanese war criminals. Particularly in the case of those who were convicted in the Khabarovsk War Crime Trials for those criminals involved in Unit 731 (pretty bad stuff, no reason to go into detail here about all that). 
> 
> On homosexuality in the ’50s: While same-sex practices were historically embraced by Japanese culture in both samurai, religious, and aristocratic customs, by the end of 19th century, western notions of sexuality labels became prevalent. In the 1950s, homosexuality emerged in Japan as an identity for the the first time. These identities continue into the present times. Some terms used for a homosexual person was/are: gei (ゲイ), dōseiaisha (同性愛者), homo (ホモ), and rezubian (レズビアン)--for women, obviously.

**Chapter Three: Traits, part one**

Uryu allowed himself several long moments of looking at Granz in silence. He took a handful of deep breaths. 

They were not enough to calm him. Not when Granz was looking right back at him with that insane, knowing grin. Even shirtless, glasses cracked, a criminal’s tattoo on his shoulder…Uryu’s body trembled with dissonance as he fought with himself to remember that it was 1950. Five years later. This was Granz, sure, but it did not need to be the same Granz…

And yet, somehow, everything felt just as it had back then.

Bizarrely, Uryu felt remiss to be sleeping late in the morning, half-expecting Granz to berate him for laziness. Even though he had not gotten enough sleep because he was tending to his former superior all night—

Then, wait. Morning? Uryu lifted his wrist in panic, staring at the watch on his arm. It was already close to ten o’clock. Hachigen’s lecture had long since ended.

“Shit.” The word left Uryu’s mouth as his heart sank impossibly low. Hachigen did not accept excuses for missed classes. More than likely, this absence would affect his final grade.

Szayelaporro tilted his head to the side curiously. Uryu looked panicked all of a sudden, like he had forgotten something. Then, the younger man combed his hair back with one hand and took a steadying breath. Szayel could not help but be somewhat shocked when he saw all of Uryu’s face for the first time, bangs pushed back. 

Uryu had grown into a mature-looking young man. No longer the scrawny boy he had known in the lab, Uryu was now a well-proportioned, hardened adult. Instead of unconfident and hasty, Uryu now looked pensive and grounded. Szayel was beyond curious to find out more about how his assistant had changed.

“You’re…different now, aren’t you, Uryu?” 

The black-haired man frowned and looked up. Szayel’s golden eyes were boring into him with the fiery rush of all his curiosity, like Uryu was some experiment he had yet to examine. 

Suddenly now, in light of his missed seminar, Uryu was not in the mood to discuss all that had passed in the years between him and Granz. He had no desire to be treated like a specimen. In fact, he already regretted picking Granz up from the alleyway… All these memories, these distractions from what he needed to do, (those dreams, the lingering effects of which still had his dick partially hard, blood draining slowly back to the rest of his confused body)…

Sighing and closing his eyes, Uryu got to his feet and walked into his kitchen. “Yeah. I’m different, Granz. And…so are you, I suppose.”

“Hmph.” Szayel put his hands on his hips. One of the things he hated most in the world was someone turning their back to him—especially while he was busy observing them. His interest in Uryu hit its peak and fell into a deep valley of contempt. “I’ve hardly changed. The only thing different is the world around me.”

“Is that so?” Uryu felt a twinge of distaste. He set a kettle of water on the hotplate to make some tea. “Well, anyway, how are you feeling? You took quite a beating last night…”

Szayel’s eyes narrowed in irritation. “Mmm. I was…caught off guard.” He adjusted his glasses as a weird swell of shame—shame, something he had not felt in a long time—rose within him. “That gangster Grimmjow excels in nothing but brute force. It’s no surprise he was able to…overpower me…”

Szayel grunted in irritation as his shame only increased. It seemed he still cared—a surprising amount—what Uryu thought of him. Being seen as weak would be a perversion of their usual dynamic…Szayel liked being the untouchable one in Uryu’s eyes. 

“Yeah, I saw.” Uryu turned the knob on his stove for some gas, angrily flicking the knob back and forth to light the element. Of course, it refused to ignite. That was nothing new. So, Uryu went and searched for a match.

Szayel’s eyes swept across Uryu’s small lodgings. The place was well-kept; Uryu was a tidy person after all. But there was something…cold about it. Like the tiny house had barely been lived in.

“This is…your home, then? This is where you…reside?” The words sounded clumsy to Szayel because he was not used to asking such a question. 

“Yes.” Uryu lit the stove with the match and set a frying pan down over it. “This is where I live. It’s part of the campus at Gekkouban Institute. I’m…a student there. And that’s…where you are now, Granz, in case you were wondering."

“Gekkouban?” Szayel pondered on the name. It was not entirely foreign to him. After all, Gekkouban was the premiere institute in Nerima, and several prefectures over. Students with the college insignia could be seen all over town. Granz would have been lying if he said he had not wondered—on more than one occasion—what kind of laboratories the meager, U.S.-funded institute had to offer…

“Yes. When I…found you last night, I brought you back here and…tended to your wounds.”

Szayel looked down at his bandaged chest. Yes, these wrappings were carefully, equally cut and the cinch was well-sewed…clearly Uryu’s handiwork. 

The pink-haired scientist smiled to himself. How convenient that he had been found by Uryu, of all people, who thought nothing of tending to him! That was only natural, of course, considering how Uryu had always tended to Szayel in the past. It pleased the man to know that his assistant still felt a measure of loyalty to him after all these years, even if he had grown up a bit.

“You have my thanks, Uryu,” said Granz, who began to register a throbbing sensation of tiredness in all his limbs. “How fortunate that you still remember all your cutting and sewing techniques from our time together.” 

Uryu clicked his tongue in irritation as he set some eggs on the pan. He was cooking them some breakfast—the seminar was long since past so there was actually no more reason to rush. Besides, he was hungry as hell.

But Granz’s words irritated him to no end. “I have been sewing since I was a boy. My techniques…have nothing to do with you.”

“Oh?” Limbs shaking slightly from exhaustion, Szayel ambled into a sitting position on the bed. He forced himself to walk with precision and accuracy despite his body’s failing energy. He did not want to seem weak in front of Uryu anymore than he already had…even if Uryu’s back was turned and even if Uryu had already carried him all the way here like a limp sack of rice.

But that was different, Granz told himself. He would not allow any more mishaps.

“If I recall,” Granz continued, laying down on the bed to steady himself. “You could barely hold a surgical knife when we met. I was the one who taught you how to keep a steady hand when cutting into flesh.”

Uryu blinked hard and swallowed in disgust. He hated the way Szayel casually said ‘into flesh.’ Like that was an appropriate thing to say. 

He spat back, “As if I require a straight razor to align your broken ribs.”

“Hmm…” Szyael’s mind had begun to swim slightly, in tiredness and the hazy need that never went away. In truth, he had not even heard Uryu’s retort. “Well, I’m glad to hear that you are studying, Uryu. I hope you’ve devoted yourself to a worthwhile biological research program where you can continue what we started…”

Uryu had to clench his jaw shut to keep his temper in check. What they started? The research that got Granz sent to prison, while Uryu narrowly avoided the same fate because of his ineffectual rank? The research that was bound to do nothing but destroy the lives of many…

“I’m studying chemistry.” Uryu said dryly. 

“Tch.” Granz rubbed a hand over his lips. It was a habit he had acquired since his need for opium developed. In the throes of need, Granz found his lips would sometimes go numb and his gums would ache…it was a horrible feeling. “You don’t have the focus to remember all those chemical formulas, Uryu-kun. Chemistry is a waste of your time. Better switch to biology so you can work with cultured bacteria and study the nature of its growth—”

“I have my reasons.” 

The black-haired man’s vision had gone practically white in frustration. Here was Szayel, his pain in the ass tyrant of a supervisor, insulting his choices once more. He did not want to have to defend himself—yet again—to this man!

Uryu flipped the egg in the pan several times to make an omelette. He had nothing but ketchup and some foreign bread to go with it, but maybe if he forced some food on Granz the man would stop talking so much.

Meanwhile, the warm scent of cooking food had reached Szayel. His eyes snapped open. It dawned on him that he had not eaten anything in…he racked his mind to remember when. Possibly the day before last when he finally remembered to spoon a few handfuls of rice into his mouth before going to surgery. Szayel pretty much only remembered to eat when he either grew impossibly weak from hunger, or when he reminded himself to eat before a procedure so that he would not need to stop during the work. The need for food, not as strong as the need for drug, was a hindrance he only acknowledged when he had to. In truth, the scientist had tried to abandon hunger altogether in the pursuit of greater things.

But the scent of Uryu’s hastily fried egg and toasted bread. Granz could not remember the last time he had smelled something so delicious so near to him. Now he had no choice but to acknowledge his hunger.

“Here,” Uryu said, spooning the food onto a plate. He grabbed some chopsticks and offered the plate to Szayelaporro. “Eat something. You must be hungry.”

Golden eyes, wide with disbelief and anticipation, flicked back and forth from Uryu to the plate. Light streamed into the house from the nearby windows, and Uryu had managed to stand directly in the yellow glow from the morning sun. He looked unearthly, a delicate, serious man standing over Szayel with a plate of something glorious. Offering heavenly food like it was nothing—

The scientist quickly grabbed the plate and pulled it to himself. He thought about saying thank you, but then his eyes landed on the food. Steaming egg and lightly burnt toast—Szayel started shoveling the stuff into his mouth without even touching the chopsticks. 

A shudder of warmth and satisfaction rippled through him as he ate and swallowed. He sighed, mind barely registering the strangeness of how such a mundane task could feel so wonderful…did this sensation, _taste_ , have a power he failed to consider?

Yes. Yes indeed it did. Uryu’s cooking was nothing short of exquisite.

The younger man watched Szayel eat. He first felt disgusted—only starving men ate like that! But then he realized, chances were that Szayel was actually starving. He was so painfully thin. And he looked downright enraptured by the small meal.

Uryu’s heart softened in sympathy. Szayel had to be hurting, despite talking like nothing had changed for him. This—another moment of humanity—pointed to the grim kind of life his superior led. The younger man sighed and thought instinctively to the other food he had to offer, because Szayel was rapidly finishing what Uryu gave him. And Uryu could not stand the thought of his former superior continuing to go hungry. 

Granz choked on a particularly large bite of bread. 

“Easy, chew a little slower…” Uryu offered, holding out a hand uselessly. 

Granz grunted in acknowledgement and continued to tear through his food. In that moment, the kettle whistled to show it was ready. Uryu robotically poured some tea and held it out to Granz, trying to stop his superior’s relentless eating pace.

Noticing the steaming cup of tea, Granz’s golden eyes lit up. He balanced the plate on the bed and took the cup with both hands, inhaling the smoke from the green tea with relish. When was the last time he had drunk tea…? So, so long ago…possibly even before the war…such a luxurious thing.

The smell of Japanese tea truly was something unparalleled by any other culture. Granz made a note never to dismiss such a thing again. 

Meanwhile, Uryu watched Granz’s lips wrap around the side of the cup. He remembered how those lips felt under his fingers when he was washing Granz’s face. Soft, not plush, not even properly filled out, but soft like velour. Uryu’s fingers twitched with the want to touch those lips again…

He blinked and saw all the images from his dream. Granz, posed like a model in a photograph, naked, staring at him, his curious cock on full display—

Why. Uryu swallowed hard and asked himself the question. Why had he dreamt of such a bizarre thing? Why was he…so fascinated by Granz? He was a man, and a crazy one at that. Uryu fought hard to remember some of what Granz had done in the war…

But all he could remember was working alongside the man in the laboratory. That had been the bulk of what they did together. Pouring over microscopes and taking notes on the reactions of compounds. Sure, surgery on the prisoners was part of it…but…Uryu could only remember about a handful of times such experimentation occurred. Szayel was one of the scientists who wanted his compounds to be perfect before he administered them. Anything else was a strict waste in his eyes.

As a result, most of Uryu’s memories consisted of sitting next to Szayel while they titrated chemicals and copied down copious amounts of notes. 

And Szayel’s attentive face as he studied the brewing chemicals as close as he dared, closer than anyone ever should have, enough to make Uryu worry and voice his concern…

_“Be careful of the fumes, Granz-taichou.”_

_“Yes, yes. Just keep your eyes open. Make note of any clear signs of oxidation.”_

_Those golden eyes so focused, as if the only thing in the world was the experiment in front of them. The mind working behind those eyes was constantly awake, constantly searching for answers, for some discovery he could enlist in his arsenal of discoveries…_

“What are you staring at, Uryu?”

The black-haired man blinked back to the present. Granz had finished his tea and his food, and he was regarding Uryu curiously. His face looked satiated, his eyes slightly hooded.

“N-nothing…” Uryu adjusted his glasses. “I sometimes have…memories…” Why the hell was he admitting to this?

“Memories?” Szayel’s head tilted to the side and he blinked slowly. “Isn’t that only natural?”

“Yes, I suppose…but I have trouble reigning them in…” 

For the first time, Szayel registered a tortured look on Uryu’s face. Suddenly he burned with the desire to study that look—why on earth was Uryu so tortured? Were his memories so poor? So harried…? Were they anything like Granz’s memories, some that the scientist had trouble admitting to himself were real?

He wanted to beckon Uryu closer, to tell him to keep absolutely still and take his glasses off while he studied him. It was the only way to be sure…but then Szayel felt his limbs shaking with exhaustion. His eyes were threatening to close on their own, his mind refusing to focus on anything except the numbing warmth of an endless hunger finally satisfied, the feeling of being full and being tired more than overwhelming.

Uryu put one hand on Granz’s shoulder. “Lay back,” he said. “You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Staring at Uryu’s slender hand on him, Granz felt himself fall back onto the bed. Such a comfortable mattress…and it smelled vaguely familiar. Like clean air in springtime, a fresh breeze. This was Uryu’s scent, he remembered. It was also wonderful. How had he overlooked olfactory responses as whole…?

“Relax, Granz-taichou.” Uryu patted his superior’s shoulder, then quickly stood up, keeping his distance. This close, all he could remember was what Granz looked liked naked— “Get some rest.”

“I’m…perfectly fine…” Szayel said the words, but he was out in seconds. 

Uryu sighed as he looked at Granz’s unbidden sleeping face. Well, he supposed he had been successful in quieting his superior down, finally. Even if he still had all these unsettling feelings to grapple with.

Now to make himself some breakfast. 

After eating, Uryu gathered his things and put on his coat. He really needed to go find Orihime. Perhaps she would have notes from the seminar and he could trade with her (if only he could try and understand whatever inanity she had written…). Besides that, he needed to work on his reports for the end of term. They were due in a few weeks and most of them would need much more hammering out…

Uryu fixed his clothes with a few careful tugs. He glanced over at Granz’s sleeping form, then quickly put a hand on the doorknob to leave. 

Sure, Granz could stay with him. He had invited that much. And from the looks of it, the man sorely needed a place to stay, a reliable source of nourishment, a warm bed. Uryu could give him that. Anything else went against his grain. He would let Granz stay in his dormitory for as long as the man needed…

But, Uryu gritted his teeth and walked out the door. That did not mean he needed to get preoccupied in all of Granz’s nonsense. Those memories were useless to him now, and he did not need any crazy distractions. All he needed to do was focus on his studies. That’s it.

Fighting down all the lingering questions and anxieties in his mind, Uryu left Szayel in his shack and headed off to the library. He thought briefly about locking the door behind him so that no one could go in, but then Szayel would not be able to get out. No, that made no sense. Szayel was not his prisoner after all.

Szayel could leave any time he wanted to. And if he was gone before Uryu returned then…all the better. 

____________________________________________________________

_His throat was sore from screaming. His new tactic was to speak incessantly, to demand things from his cell until someone at last grew tired of the sound of his voice and tried to appease him. He could expect the Americans to be reasonable men, after all, considering they had just won a war…_

_Eventually Granz was escorted—manhandled, more like!—to a single person cell. He was warned, in gruff English, to pipe down and wait for a tribunal. Days passed like grains of sand trickling down an hourglass. He was stagnating here, dying surely. And his poor research—!_

_And Uryu…? What had become of his assistant?_

_The tribunal was an incoherent mess. Granz was present only to show his face. He was not asked to speak in his own defense. Meanwhile, people he had seen in passing were speaking out against several things that had been done to them. Their translators were poor—even Szayel could have done a better job translating their words to the Europeans presiding as judges._

_After months, it became clear that Szayel was found guilty of…something. The charges were new to his ears and he could not keep them straight in his head. Such things mattered so little to him! He would accept any verdict as long as it meant he could eventually continue his research._

_Even if he had to work in a laboratory in prison, he would do it._

_(Not that such things existed.)_

_More months passed. Szayel continued his tirade, asking for clemency. He even dug into the unsavory aspects of his parentage—the fact that he was not fully Japanese, that his mother had been of Filipino birth. That his name and looks surely did not sound Japanese to any rational man and therefore he should be handed over to the Phllippinian embassy…even the German embassy if he needed! Granz had worked for the Germans for some time, maybe they would be able to grant him amnesty—that is, if their trials went over any better in Europe._

_One day he woke up with shackles around his wrists. He was lying in a bed but he could not remember how he got there._

_A woman stood over him, a demure-looking young girl with a blank expression on her face. His body felt sluggish, slow to respond, but he was relieved to see an actual person next to him. Someone he could interrogate at least. He spoke to her first in English, demanding to know where he was. She did not answer. Then he tried Japanese, then Spanish, then Tagalog. Nothing._

_“Answer me, you damn cunt!!” Szayel cried eventually, thrashing against the bonds at his wrist, shaking the small bed._

_“Enough, Nemu, we already have more than we need.”_

_Szayel turned and faced the man who spoke._

_In his dreams this man changed shape every time. Sometimes he was normal-looking, brown eyes and normal skin. Other times he was bizarre—white-painted face and some strange headdress. Every time Szayel spoke, trying to reason with him as a man of science, this man ignored him. Or else just smiled at him with yellowing teeth._

_When it got right down to it, this man who was always in his dreams, the nightmares he fought to forget in the waking world…he did not even know this man’s name._

_“Administer the serum, Nemu, let’s not waste anymore time.”_

_The girl pulled out a syringe from somewhere and calmly injected something into Szayel’s right arm. He eyed the syringe carefully and started rattling off chemical compounds to the other scientist standing there. What on earth could be in that syringe and damn it what right did they have to just inject him with it?_

_“Stop, stop,” the man answered finally. “Your prattling is really getting on my nerves. It’s a new drug of my own creation. A heavy opioid mixed with some mild anesthetic. My hope is that it will keep you quiet, but let me know of any other interesting side effects, won’t you?”_

_The gleeful look on that man’s face. Szayel grit his teeth as he felt his mind start to fade to black. It felt like pouring bleach over his brain, all color draining from his vision in a swirl of anticipation._

_A new kind of numbness. Complete and total dissociation._

_When Szayel finally awoke from the drug-induced stupor, he had no idea how much time had passed. Nor where he was or what day. They gave him some food and he fed himself automatically, but his sense of taste was completely gone. The food itself was more of a technicality._

_All he needed to do was speak and that woman was back, administering more drug._

_This opioid, whatever it was…it was Szayel’s only constant. He began to enjoy the feeling of blackness, of swirling sensation. Like swimming in a void. The waking world felt harsh and bland by comparison._

_Nothing was as welcoming nor as reliable as that blackness. Sometimes Szayel registered a distant shining and he was able to focus on that as if it were the most fascinating dissertation._

_He did not know how long he stayed like this. In his dreams it was infinite, an endless amount of time._

_Then the worst part of the nightmare—an American general pulling him from his hospital/prison bed and sitting him in a chair. Szayel’s mind was weak from disuse and he needed to focus hard on the English words to understand them._

_“You speak English, right?”_

_“Yes…I speak…English…” Szayel muttered, passing a hand over his mouth again and again to fight the strange numbness he felt there. His gums were tingling so peculiarly it was distracting._

_“Szayelaporro Granz, convicted of Class B war crimes. Prisoner number 8-010, the eighth of our Class B war criminals here.” The general thrummed his fingers against the metal table in between them. The sound grated against Szayel’s ears and he flinched, suddenly finding the light unbearable as well. All he required was blackness, why was he even here…?_

_“I want to make you an offer, Mr. Granz. Hear me out and you could be out of this place by noon tomorrow.”_

_Noon the next day? That sounded…soon. But then, what year was it?_

_“You give me all the research you did in the Philippines. And I mean all of it. Then I need you to explain it all to my guys over in San Diego. Once you give us everything you learned, that’s it. You’re free to go home, back to Japan. I hear Tokyo is lovely this time of year.”_

_He laughed dryly and lit a cigar. Then he held out a contract and a pen._

_“Sign here and you’ll have immunity for life, under the condition you never speak to an American again. For any reason. Once we’re done, you just go on living that life of yours until it’s your time to go. Understood?”_

_Szayel stared at the blurry English words in front of him. His grip on the pen was weak. It took him several tries to hold the pen without dropping it._

_Immunity. A chance to see a laboratory again. Maybe now someone would be able to understand his research and appreciate it…this was the only chance he was likely to get._

_Szayel signed his name in English letters to the best of his ability. He thought he heard screaming in his ears—was someone else in the prison screaming? Or was it in his head…?_

_“Good, good.” The general collected the contract and stood up from the table. “As promised, you’ll be on the next plane to San Diego. Now, go get some sleep, Mr. Granz. I’m not going to lie to you, you look like shit.”_

_In Szayel’s dreams, he saw his own face in a mirror. His emaciated face, his cracked, un-cared-for skin, his golden eyes gone dull from being closed viewing the other world for so long… Reality itself was summed up in the image of his face. It all crashed around him in that moment. The worst nightmare he could ever imagine._

_After that, Szayel left the prison in what felt like seconds. He thought the separation—being up in the air away from the prison grounds—would be enough to make him shake his longing for that blackness._

_But he was wrong. The need only increased with the distance. By the time he landed in San Diego, he was a shivering pile of nerves. The doctors there gave him sedatives in the form of barbiturates. Eventually, Szayel had to make his own opioids using drugs he pilfered from the laboratories where he taught the slow-witted San Diego scientists._

_These self-made drugs allowed him to think. But they were not enough to keep the need at bay forever. Only the discovery of an opium den—a tucked away place in Chinatown—offered any kind of real relief._

As he lay on Uryu’s bed, Szayel twitched in his sleep. He remembered the things he did not care to remember in waking life. 

These were all his own memories. 

________________________________________________________

“Ishida-kun, are you listening to me?”

Uryu realized he was staring out the window. He sat at a table in the library with Orihime, Tatsuki, Keigo, and Mizuiro. Orihime had been talking for some time trying to explain what Hachigen-sama was getting at with his lecture, but Uryu spaced out long ago.

In truth, he had been thinking about what he would make for dinner that night. Surely Szayel would be hungry by the time Uryu returned from his schoolwork. He would need to scrounge up some more food. Perhaps some rice and fried vegetables…Uryu was in the habit of eating light. 

But now his friends were looking at him questioningly.

“Hello, Uryu-kun…?” Keigo poked him a few times on the shoulder. “You in there, man?”

The bespectacled young man adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “Ah, yes, I’m here. Sorry, I was…lost in thought.”

“Still have that end of term paper on your mind, huh?” Mizuiro tossed out. “Have you even started?”

“I’m still…gathering resources…” Uryu said lamely. 

The group chuckled at that and Uryu blushed slightly. He knew he had fallen behind on his paperwork. There was no single reason why either. 

Orihime smiled along with the group, but she tucked a strand of orange hair behind her ear. It was a classic sign of worry. Honestly, she thought Uryu was acting rather strangely. He had explained away missing class because of sleeping late after a night of drinking in the bars downtown—but Uryu never did that! It was so unlike him that Orihime was left thinking her friend was either lying to them (something she hated to consider) or hiding something essential happening in his life.

“Let’s start from the top, you slackers.” Tatsuki straightened her papers and prepared to read. “Seriously, how do you guys expect to get into medical school when you’re this unfocused?”

“Who said anything about medical school?” Keigo protested. “I’m going straight into R&D for some top notch marketing company as soon as I graduate! I’ll be designing all those cute little perfume bottles ladies seem to love these days…” 

“Great aspirations, man,” Mizuiro sighed.

“I know, right!” 

Uryu looked down at his own notes and wondered. His friends here all looked to the future with good hopes, with positivity. They all grew up the same way, so why couldn’t Uryu do the same? 

Orihime watched the black-haired young man closely.

They passed a few hours going over the lecture. Uryu realized he had missed an important one—a further exploration of pathogens—and he was pissed. Probably no way to make up for lost time. 

Finally the sun began to set. The group decided to call it a day. They all said goodbye in the crisp fall evening outside the library. Keigo and Mizuiro headed back to their dorm together. Tatsuki, Orihime’s roommate and closest friend, told her she would get started on dinner if Orihime needed to finish up something on campus. She said this with a pointed look on her face that meant she wanted Orihime to stay a little longer. To…work something out.

“Yeah, I’ll just be a bit, Tatsuki-chan!” Orihime smiled brightly and waved goodbye as Tatsuki walked off toward their dormitory.

Uryu awkwardly shifted his book bag, realizing he was once again alone with Orihime. This was what had gotten him into trouble last time, he thought bitterly.

But no, that wasn’t fair. None of this was Orihime’s fault. Uryu had chosen to go into town on his own. And no one forced him to take Szayel home…

“I think I’ll head down to the lab and check on the experiment we started yesterday!” Orihime forced a smile and shifted to face the direction of the laboratories. “Would you…like to come with me, Ishida-kun?” 

This time he would accept. Besides, going to the lab to check on his work was a genuinely good idea. “Yes, I think I will.”

So, the two of them headed off towards the laboratories. Uryu was grateful that in the fading sun there was no way to get confused between red maple leaves and…anything else. He did not want to act like a madman any more today, with the spacing out and the faraway look in his eyes.

Uryu was not in the habit of attracting attention to himself. (Unless that attention was for a well-assembled outfit, which he would humbly claim ownership of on the regular.) 

“It seems to be colder than usual for this time of year,” Orihime remarked. “I hope it won’t be too brutal this winter.”

“As do I,” Uryu answered. “I don’t know if my lodges keep very warm during in-climate weather.”

“Mmm.” 

Wow, not even Orihime had any response to that bland statement. They walked in uncomfortable silence for a bit.

“So!” Oops, too loud. Orihime apologized for startling Uryu with that suddenly declaration. “Heheh, sorry! I get excited sometimes…”

“No, it’s…fine…” Uryu sighed to hide his irritation. 

“Anyway, I wanted to ask you, Ishida-kun. Just curious, but…what bar did you go to last night?” 

“I’m sorry, what bar?” Uryu felt himself panicking as he realized he had been somewhat caught in a lie.

“Yeah, when you left to go downtown yesterday. I thought you were going for groceries but I suppose you wound up in a bar last night. So, what was the name of it?”

“I…well, um, that is…” Uryu struggled to remember any names of places he had seen downtown.

“I only ask because Tatsuki-chan is curious,” Orihime said quickly. She tucked some hair behind her ear. “She wants to take me to a place called ‘De-Lovely.’ Have you heard of it?”

In truth, Uryu had not. “Oh, yes, I believe so…”

“You have?” Orihime stopped in her tracks and regarded Uryu with wide eyes. 

“Um…I think…” Uryu readjusted his glasses and tried to think. Was this place something weird…? Dear god, no, please don’t let it be.

“Oh, I see.” Orihime quieted down for a moment. Uryu hastened to think of something to ask about this place De-Lovely, but then Orihime perked up on the spot. “Well, that’s great, then! Maybe…the three of us could go sometime!”

“Sure…” Uryu wished the walk to the labs was just a little closer. Thankfully he could already see them in the distance. 

“Unless, do you…have someone that you usually meet there, Ishida-kun?”

“I’m..sorry?” 

“Um, you know, like…a friend! I guess, I’m not sure what the term is for it…” Orihime was turning redder by the second as she thought. “You know, like…a sex friend I suppose?”

“S-sex fr-friend?!” Uryu nearly choked on his spit and suffocated. Where the hell had this conversation gone?

“Y-yeah…!” Orihime looked bright but somewhat daunted. “Tatsuki-chan says that De-Lovely is a place to meet people just for fun! Fun meaning…sex, I guess…”

“No, I’ve never been to this place!” Uryu cried. 

Hell no! He had never had sex before (not even in the war! He had found the very idea of comfort women absolutely reprehensible and he could never bring himself to do anything with them). Despite being a twenty-six-year-old virgin, Uryu was not ashamed. His upbringing had been traditional, after all, where one waited until marriage if possible. He was legitimately uncomfortable by the thought of casual sex…

Uryu did not know if he could ever bring himself to have sex with someone he did not love. He could not think about exposing himself like that so flippantly. Sex, in his mind, was the same as baring one’s soul to a partner. How could he just put his own soul on display for someone he did not truly care about?

“O-oh, th-that’s okay, Ishida-kun!” Orihime waved her hands frantically. “I’ve never been there either! And it’s…not just for _that_ you know. It’s also a place where gay people can hang out and meet each other—”

“G-gay people?” Uryu stammered. He lowered his voice to a whisper to avoid attention. One could not just blurt out ‘gay people’ at the top of one’s voice! That was the rule pretty much anywhere, he thought.

“Uh, yeah, you know, people who like to be with other people of the same—”

“I know what gay means!” Uryu was as red as strawberry by now. Why did Orihime bring up this place—a gay bar, clearly—out of all the places?

“So, anyway, Tatsuki-chan wants to go to this place because, you know, Tatsuki is a lesbian so…it makes sense for her. If Ishida-kun is also interested I think it would be fun to go together…”

Uryu’s mind felt like it was about to explode. Tatsuki was…? And Orihime…? The picture of Orihime as a role model girl shredded to bits in his mind. Were she and Tatsuki a couple? If not, that was even stranger! How could Orihime stand being roommates with a lesbian if she were not also gay? 

A million questions threatened to tumble out of his mouth. He paused for a few moments, staring headlong at Orihime in a way he never did. She looked back at him a little uncertainly. It seemed her mind was also working to figure out exactly what they were talking about here.

“I’m…sorry if any of this sounds weird, Ishida-kun,” Orihime said finally. “It’s just…when you’d said you’d heard of De-Lovely, I thought maybe you were also…”

…What, gay? Uryu’s heart nearly stopped in his chest. Here was someone—a girl, the one that he had assumed he would end up with someday—who actually thought for a moment that Uryu swung that way! It was the first time in his life and he felt scandalized and embarrassed. 

Not least of all because he had spent his night fantasizing about another man.

Another image from his dream popped into his mind. Just Granz shirtless, looking at him with a “come-hither” expression. In his sleep, Uryu had found that sight absolutely irresistible. He wondered now if he would think the same thing if he saw that when he was awake…

Now he was thinking about Granz’s lips again. They looked so beautiful on that cup. It was impossible to see those lips and not think of sex. In fact, something about Granz’s whole figure was like that. Every fluid motion of his body, down to the thin curve of his hips and the ramrod straightness of his back, screamed of sexual innuendo. 

Uryu wondered for the first time: Was Granz gay? He had never seen him with a woman in the Philippines. Nor did anyone ever talk of Granz’s lovers like they were a known thing. Word was he had a wife somewhere in the world, in Japan maybe, or Germany where he had been stationed before. But that was just talk. Somehow Uryu doubted such a wife was real now, if she had ever been real.

But Granz’s eyes when he got excited, wide and lascivious. His disregard for nudity, how comfortable he was baring himself whenever. All these things spoke to some kind of sexual proclivity. There had been more than one occasion where Uryu thought his superior might actually be expecting _that_ from him at some point—times when their eyes met and refused to part. Times when Granz forcefully grabbed him from behind, either in a fit of rage or excitement, pulling him over to a microscope. But Granz always pulled away at the last second or else acted like nothing untoward had ever happened.

Come to think of it, Uryu realized he had been confused by the prospects of Granz’s sexuality from the beginning.

And now, he was confused by his own, it seemed.

“It’s…” Uryu began, after solemnly taking stock of himself for a time. “It’s alright, Inoue-san. Sorry for the misunderstanding, but, perhaps we should…talk about something else right now. I don’t have the stomach for serious conversation today.” 

A polite cop-out. It was all Uryu could expect from himself, even if that frustrated him. He was so weak sometimes. 

“Oh, no, I’m sorry for prying, Ishida-kun! That was not my intention. I just…well, anyway, we can talk about it another time.” 

Orihime’s smile was actually comforting in that moment. Of anyone, Uryu had no doubts that Orihime would never, ever judge him for being gay—or, at the very least, for being attracted to another man. She lived with a lesbian, for fuck’s sake. She was as understanding of modern proclivities as it was possible to be.

For once, Uryu gave her a small, real smile in return. 

At last, they reached the doors to the laboratory. These well-kept facilities were the pride and joy of Gekkouban, and they served as Uryu’s personal place of sanity. He loved coming here. The work that he did in these labs was by far his favorite part of being a student. Sometimes, Uryu wished he could live in the adjacent room to the laboratory instead of having to trek all the way back home every night. That’s what he and Granz did in the Philippines anyway. 

But then…he supposed that was far from sane. So, yeah.

Strolling through the marble tiled hallways of the building, Uryu felt that perhaps his day was about to get a lot easier. After all, working alongside Orihime was always easy—even uplifting at times. 

“Oh, wait, what’s going on…?”

Orihime was the first to notice the cracked glass door on one of the cabinets. The site—a blemish on Uryu’s pristine image of this place—made the breath catch in his throat. Had someone just been careless when they closed the cabinet…?

“Oh, no…”

Orihime walked into the floor of the lab. At her feet were strewn a countless amount of supplies. Gauze, plastic cultures, eye droppers. Some chemicals even. 

“Be careful,” Uryu called darkly. He worried about Orihime stepping all over the scattered liquids, not sure what they were.

Some broken glass crunched under Orihime’s feet. “Who…who would have done this?” She raised a hand to her cheek in alarm, truly taken aback.

“Damn it…” Uryu saw that a whole cabinet had been emptied onto the floor. What a waste of university supplies! Not to mention the sheer danger…were any of those compounds acidic? 

Not a moment later, they both heard the sound of glass shattering coming from the next room over. They looked at each other in panic. Uryu’s first instinct was to get a weapon, so he grabbed a broken flask and held it out in front of himself. He gestured for Orihime to stand behind him.

Together, they inched closer to the next room over. On the way, Uryu began to wonder if maybe they should have just called the police…but here they were now, Orihime relying on his manliness for protection. So much for being gay, Uryu would keep her safe from the intruder and maybe even get in a few revenge stabs on the guy for dismantling his safe place…(yeah right, he would be lucky to get out of here with his life, they both knew that)…

“Fucking _mierda! Hijo de puta…_ where are the goddamn syringes?!” 

Wait…that voice…

No. Fuck. Uryu’s whole body slackened a bit. 

Sure enough, he could see some pink hair peeking out from behind a cabinet. 

The assailant, currently kneeling on the floor, was rummaging through the cabinet with abandon. Cursing in Spanish and who knew what else the whole while, he threw vials and flasks carelessly over his shoulder as he went. From the sound of it, this man was looking for syringes.

Uryu put it all together in his mind. He knew exactly what Szayel was doing.

“ _P_ _utang ina_ _._ ” The pink-haired scientist sat back on his knees and stared up at the high cabinets that lined the ceiling. “ _Ikaw ay isang tunay_ _tarantado_ .” 

“Granz.” 

Uryu took the opportunity to make his presence known in a deep, beyond-irritated voice.

Szayel turned around and looked in shock at the two students. Orihime put her hand over her mouth and gasped at the sight. Uryu supposed he could not blame her; after all, Szayel had still neglected to put on any sort of shirt before stealing into the laboratories. Sitting there as he was, the man looked like a crazed half-naked drug addict caught red-handed in the act of theft. 

Which, Uryu realized through his thickening rage, was exactly what he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post note on language: So, I have Szayel speaking a mix of Spanish and Tagalog here (Tagalog being a language spoken the Phillippines, almost identical to Filipino which is the national language). Because of his backstory I think this makes sense. A lot of Filipino people also speak Spanish, especially in places like Luzon. So I like writing him as speaking both! :) Here are the translations for some of the stuff (they're all curse words, so there):
> 
> (Spanish) mierda! = shit  
> (Spanish) Hijo de puta = son of a bitch  
> (Tagalog) Putang ina = motherfucker  
> (Tagalog) kaw ay isang tunay tarantado = "You're a real pain in the ass."  
> **with help from Jusalurker on the Tagalog** :) 
> 
> Now, the next chapter is all but done! It should be up either by the end of the day or tomorrow :) Continue on, friends!


	4. Traits, Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uryu decides how they should proceed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, a double update! I hope you liked all those short references to the canon in that last chapter. Here's more to come!
> 
> Also, I am perplexed at how the BAMF!Uryu tag is not more of a thing. Travesty! 
> 
> Notes: - These are all curse word notes. Because!  
> (Spanish): cosas jodidas = fucking things  
> (Tagalog) sumpain = damn  
> (Tagalog) magkantot = fucking

**Chapter Four: Traits, part two**

A few hours earlier, Granz awoke from his myriad of nightmares in a cold sweat. His golden eyes flicked across Uryu’s shack and he instantly fought down all the memories he had just relived. Those damn things, useless, distracting…why did his mind insist on dragging them up every time he fell unconscious?

Furthermore, Granz’s body was pouring out sweat at an alarming rate. He got up from the bed to get a glass of water. On shaky feet, he used his tea cup from earlier and tried to find the sink in Uryu’s home. Finally, of all the _sumpain_ places to be, he found it outside. A pump. So, gathering up all the strength he had left, Granz managed to fill his cup with water. He gulped it down and collapsed on the grass outside. 

Still thirsty and sweaty, Granz laid on his back and stared up at the late afternoon sky. The clouds rolled by heedlessly. Everything in autumn looked burnt orange, and that really pissed Szayel off. He had no desire to relish in the beauty of natural things. The calm serenity of the world outside seemed to be mocking him—drawing attention to how miserable, itchy, and panicked Szayel felt on the inside.

He moved his lips experimentally. They had already gone completely numb. He felt an itchiness roaming outward from behind his eyes, making his fingers twitch and shiver incessantly at his sides in the grass. 

He needed the drug. It had only been a day or so, but…he needed it. 

Szayel sat up, eyes roaming across the expanse of Gekkouban campus. He had no idea how to get back to his apartment from here, nor more importantly how to get back to the den. He would need something quicker, just to get him by for the next few hours, maybe the next couple of days while he waited for his wounds to heal. 

There had to be a laboratory somewhere nearby. From his time in San Diego, Szayel knew how to make a reasonable substitute for opium. He could find the ingredients there, along with some syringes…it was his only option.

Steadying himself with a deep breath, Szayel pushed back his (now mostly clean) pink hair and rose to his feet. Now to find the laboratories… There, a campus map. Ignoring his half-naked state (and broken bones), Szayel memorized the map in moments and trudged along the path to the laboratory. 

He was surprised, at first, to find the labs in such good condition. However, all the cabinets were so poorly organized! The basic hydroxide solutions were gathered in a cabinet alongside the phosphoric compounds! What madness was this? Szayel would never have accepted such a thing in his own laboratory. On Uryu’s first day, he had his assistant organize the laboratory by chemical formula, according to the number of oxygen bonds in each solution. It was the only thing that made sense!

Szayel cursed loudly and realized he would just have to rummage through everything then. He needed some isolated phenyl solution, or else he would have to find some benzene and isolate it himself…

It was far too easy to get frustrated rooting through the densely packed, poorly laid out chemicals. Before he realized, Szayel was slamming cabinets behind himself as he searched. He spent nearly an hour (or what felt like an hour to his increasingly itchy mind) looking through a series of phenethylamine solutions for no benefit whatsoever! 

That was point where Szayel, enraged with a throbbing headache, started throwing chemicals across the floor. 

Eventually—finally!—he found some things he could use. Then, of all the _cosas jodidas_ , he could not find the syringes! How was he supposed to ingest this compound if not by injection…? Regular swallowing took too long to pass through his digestive system…

He did not exactly hear Uryu and the girl walk in. When he heard Uryu’s voice, at first he thought it might have been a regular hallucination. But no, there they were. He knew it was real because he had never seen that orange-haired girl before. He rarely hallucinated things he had not seen in real life. 

A shadow crossed his former assistant’s face. He dropped a broken flask onto the floor and let it shatter, making the girl next to him start to cry. Why had Uryu been holding a broken flask…? 

And damn if that girl’s crying wasn’t making his headache worse. 

“Uryu…good.” Szayel panted, casting his eyes around the lab and rising to his feet. “This is your lab, then, correct? You must know where things are kept. Help me find the syringes so—”

“You…” The shadow across Uryu’s face darkened considerably. Szayel noticed the younger man was shaking. (When had Uryu ever been this upset in the past? Szayel could not remember a time…) 

“You…filthy… _addict_!” The last word came out of the student’s mouth with such a vehemence, Szayel actually flinched. “You piece of…what the hell do you think you’re doing here?!” 

Uryu took several steps towards Szayelaporro, closing the distance between them. Out of instinct, the pink-haired scientist backed up until his back hit the opposite wall. 

“Ishida-kun!” Orihime cried. “Wait, be careful—"

“You…son of a…what gives you the right…” Uryu slammed his palms on the wall on either side of Szayel’s head. 

For a moment, Szayel would admit, he was actually afraid of his former assistant. That darkness, that rage…he had never seen it before. But, ultimately, the display was…

Fascinating.

Szayel’s mouth twitched into a gleeful smile. He forgot, for a moment, about his persistent need for drug.

“Uryu.” He reached out and put a hand on his assistant’s quivering shoulder. He stroked along there delicately, teasingly. “Is this what you look like mad? My, my, my…”

“Bastard!” Uryu took several steps back as if burned. His glasses reflected the light from the window and shielded his eyes with a perpetual glare. “Don’t…! You have no right to go digging through this laboratory for your own selfish purposes! What…the hell was I thinking…letting you…”

Szayel’s smile faltered for a second. Did Uryu actually regret tending to him? He blinked, unsure how to reconcile that thought with what he knew about their relationship. The old Uryu would never think twice about helping him…

Seeing nothing but red, Uryu called upon his hidden reserves of strength to keep himself together. He was so furious it was actually hard to breathe. Szayel, coming in here and literally trampling all over his life. Scaring the hell out of Orihime, making him think he needed to protect himself…

“Come on.”

Uryu walked over to Szyael and grabbed him by the shoulder. His grip was so tight the scientist actually whimpered. When had Uryu gotten so strong…? 

“We’re going.” 

Uryu pulled Szayel by the crook of his neck. He walked him a few paces towards the door, then turned to look at Orihime. 

She looked absolutely flabbergasted. Her mouth was hanging open in a rather un-ladylike fashion. Uryu hated himself for letting her be exposed to Szayel’s filth.

“My deepest apologies, Inoue-san,” he said to her. There was an inhuman-like calmness seeping from him and it only made Orihime shiver. “I’ll handle this from here. Let’s continue our experiment another time.” 

He even bowed a small goodbye before he continued pulling Szayel towards the door.

“You…!” Szayel strained against Uryu’s grip. “You…fiend! Let me go this instant! Uryu! Just who do you think you’re manhandling like this? I demand you release me!” 

Uryu paid his cries no mind and instead dragged him through the rest of the laboratory, out into the evening. Szayel continued screaming, running between languages as it became clear Uryu had no intention of letting him go. 

Orihime heard that strange man’s cries fade into the distance. She stood alone in the laboratory, looking at the mess he had made.

Did Uryu…know that man? Yes, she supposed he did. How the hell did Uryu come to know such a man? 

She had seen it, yes she was sure of it—the black tattoo on that man’s neck. Numbers. A war tattoo. Such a horrible thought swept through her mind as she realized where Uryu knew him from.

Yet, Orihime supposed she actually did not know much about Ishida-kun. That darkness on his face….that had to come from somewhere.

She also supposed it was up to her now to clean this place up. Sighing, Orihime picked up a broom and began to sweep.

_________________________________________________________

Szayel started throwing punches in Uryu’s direction. How dare his assistant treat him like?! He was beyond furious, forget the throbbing needs that thrummed all through him the farther away they got from laboratory. He had left all the chemicals in the lab—now what on earth would he do?

“Uryu! Fucking listen to me, damn you!” 

Szayel threw more punches, but Uryu dodged them with a type of accuracy that made Szayel’s head spin. Were his own punches that slow or was Uryu actually some type of combat expert…? He doubted it, considering the fact that Uryu had been sent to work in his laboratory from the frontline, a failed combatant…but now, where was all this otherworldly strength coming from?

Even when his punches landed, they seemed to glance off Uryu’s body like buzzing insects. After that, Uryu only gripped him harder. 

…What the hell?!

Ignoring all the glances from other college students and professors (which made his blood boil all the hotter), Uryu dragged Szayel back to his dormitory. He threw open the door and deposited his superior into the house as if laying down a sack of rice. Saying nothing, Uryu stormed right back out of the house and locked the door behind him, effectively locking his superior inside.

Szayel pounded on the door from the inside. “You…little shit! You’re…you’re my assistant, damn it! You can’t treat me like this!” 

Uryu walked around back and locked the other door. He felt for the first time how hard his hands were shaking. The rush of adrenaline he had gotten after seeing Szayel tearing through his lab was starting to fade now. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Uryu sank down onto the grass. He rested the back of his head against the door and thought.

He really should go to the police now. He had successfully apprehended Granz, the criminal. He should just turn him over to the police for the crime he had committed in the lab, stealing and destruction of property. Turn him over to the Americans, let them do whatever they would to him. It was the only thing that made sense. Maybe in prison Szayel would finally be able to overcome his addiction…

Of course, Uryu had no way of knowing that prison was exactly where Szayel’s addiction started.

Uryu buried his fingers in his hair and tried to think. He wanted to do the right thing. He always wanted to do what was right…it was how he had been raised, with the honor of the Ishida clan. But damn it, what was the right thing in this case? 

He imagined Szayel rotting away in a cell. Shaky, sweaty, and still so thin. Was that really what his former superior needed? 

Meanwhile, inside the house, Szayel frantically looked for a way to escape. Fucking Uryu had managed to lock both doors on either side of the house, so that was a dead end. Next he tried the windows. But those _sumpain, magkantot_ things were stuck closed. Seriously? Didn’t Uryu ever need to open those windows for anything? It seemed like they were permanently rusted shut in their tracks.

Well, nothing for it but to break the glass and crawl out! Szayel looked for something heavy to throw at the windows. A pot might work…he held a cooking pot in his hand and eyed the window conspiratorially.

But…the shattering glass might cause some harm to himself, as well. And, honestly, his broken ribs were starting to smart painfully with all the exertion of the past few hours. 

Then the itchiness came full force and his body began to sweat bullets. That _need_ … Yeah, no, he needed to just break this damn window, forget about the consequences. 

He raised the pot high over his head to throw it— Bone crunching pain shot out from his ribs. He screamed involuntarily and dropped the pot with a crash. Out of instinct, Szayel curled in on himself, holding both hands to his ribs. 

“Ow ow ow…” he muttered to himself. The scientist had felt that ache right down to his bone marrow. 

After a while of holding himself completely still, Szayel tried moving again in small increments. He managed to crawl forward and rest his back against the bed frame. Like this, he was able to take small breaths without more of that pain shooting through him.

Szayel rested his chin on his knees. The itchiness and his headache had never gone away, but now they were coupled with the wretched pain from his side. 

A miserable state of affairs all things considered.

Slowly, he rocked himself back and forth to keep calm. He needed not to panic. That was essential. Even though every nerve in his body wanted to scream from some form of suffering, Szayel would need to remain fastidious…it was the only way to hang onto his last vestiges of sanity. 

Though right now he just felt like saying fuck it and letting himself go insane.

Some tears formed along the bottom of his eyes. He let them fall. Crying was a useless, sadly natural physiological response. Szayel knew tears were pointless but he had learned to live with it. Sometimes crying was simply impossible to stop. He had certainly been in a number of situations in the last five years where saltwater leaked from his eyes without the slightest hope of holding back…so Szayel just sat on Uryu’s floor and let the tears run down his face.

______________________________________________________

Evening turned into night. Uryu’s body felt numb from the cold and from his own indecision. He had heard Szayel screaming and clattering around inside his house, but that was a while ago. Even now, Uryu was not sure about what he wanted to do. Several times he had stood up to go and fetch the police, only to crumple back down to the ground without a clue on how to proceed.

What would his grandfather Souken do? What would his father do…? 

Well, to be fair, those were two very different matters of opinion. Uryu shook his head and realized he would just need to rely on himself, his own moral compass, to get through this one.

Watching the stars appear in the night sky, Uryu could not believe only a day had passed. In just one day, Szayelaporro Granz managed to come bursting into his life, tearing down all the carefully built walls Uryu had placed between himself and the past. Not only that, Szayelaporro also managed to worm his way into Uryu’s conscience, making him question all sense of right and wrong. Things he wanted to leave decidedly behind in the wake of the war.

He had also made him question his sexuality, of all things.

Damn him, Uryu thought. That man…that man who had so flippantly decided the course of his life from the moment they met. Uryu remembered the first time he laid eyes on Granz, being transfixed by the sight of such a strangely beautiful man. (Feminine? Was Granz actually very effeminate? In some ways yes, but not really, considering the way Granz cursed and carried on like the saltiest of sailors.) 

_Golden eyes sizing him up and down. Uryu nearly trembled just at the feeling of being looked at by this man._

_“Ishida Uryu, was it?” the scientist asked, crossing his arms over his chest and holding them at the elbows._

_Why did he feel so exposed? He could hardly meet the scientist’s gaze, even though he wanted to size him up just as much. What a strange, lanky body…what was this man’s history?_

_Granz broke into a smile. “Hmm. You’ll do.”_

From that moment, Uryu had been enslaved to this man. Well, not really enslaved, but…forced into some sort of servitude. Uryu had to serve him as part of his job in the army, but there was definitely more to it than that.

In his heart Uryu knew, he could never willingly betray that man. He was too beautiful when he was on a roll, shouting off formulas and theories, gesturing wildly to all his compounds, always checking out of the corner of his golden eye to make sure Uryu was scribbling down notes. 

In spite of everything, Uryu could have watched him work forever. 

That sickened him. Made him question his own moral fiber. But then, Uryu knew that Granz’s dedication to science was no joke, no thinly veiled disguise for sadism (like many of the other scientists he had seen there). Such a pure determination…Uryu had to admit he admired that drive in some ways. 

A lot of ways.

…Fuck.

Uryu rose to his feet and fished the door key out of his pocket. He would never hand Szayelaporro over to the police. It would be the end of the man, Uryu knew. He was already on such shaky ground. Uryu could not just let him fall, let him collapse into nothing. 

He could only try to build him up again, from rock bottom. Was that even possible? Who the hell knew. But it was the only thing he could do at this point. 

Opening the door with a quiet slide, Uryu steadied himself. He had a feeling Szayel might rush him with a knife, or something, to try and break free. Hell, Szayel had done no less in the past when he was angry enough. So Uryu tiptoed through his own home keeping an eye out for any shapes moving in his peripheral vision.

Which was why he was shocked to find Szayel just sitting on the floor, curled into a completed circle, face hidden against his knees. The man looked limp, deflated somehow, but wound tightly from somewhere deep inside. Like he might jump out at any moment. 

“Granz…?” Uryu asked hesitantly, trying to alert the man of his presence.

Silence.

Then in a rush, Granz inhaled deeply through his nose and let out a shaky breath, combined with a quiet whimper. Of pain? Yes, it sounded like he was in pain. There was also a wet sound there that made Uryu’s heart almost stop in his chest. The scientist had not lifted his head at all, so Uryu could not see his face.

“Granz…” 

Uryu approached his former superior more quickly now, unsure what he needed to do but knowing he just needed to assess the man’s state—

“Get away from me!!” Granz screamed suddenly. 

He looked up at Uryu with a wild expression on his face, the same Uryu might expect from a caged animal. Beyond that, Szayel’s face was streamed with tears, his golden eyes blood shot from…

Had this man been…crying?

“…Szayelaporro…” 

Forgetting himself, Uryu ran to the scientist’s side and kneeled down next to him. He saw the slight tremors coursing through Szayel’s body, he noticed the sheen of sweat that covered him. He could hear the man breathing heavily, as if trying to forcibly hold his body together as it tried to fall apart around him. Uryu caught a glimpse of the scientist’s face as he turned to look up at him from behind a curtain of matted pink hair.

“Don’t look at me…you bastard…” Szayel muttered, looking to the side and holding out an arm in front of himself to keep Uryu away.

Uryu took a deep breath. He felt a crack forming across his chest, splitting in two to see his superior in such a state.

But he would never back down. Not now.

“Szayelaporro,” Uryu said softly, gently pushing the man’s arm away to close the distance between them. “Are you…hurting anywhere? Did your cinch come loose?” 

Szayel flinched, then looked slowly back to Uryu, his panicked features honing in on his former assistant’s face. He gurgled some curse behind closed teeth, then shifted slightly to show Uryu the bandages around his ribs. 

Uryu clicked his teeth in sympathetic pain. Sure enough, the bandages and the cinch had loosened and started to slip down Szayel’s torso. That must have hurt like hell.

“You over-exerted yourself, Szayel, it’s come loose,” Uryu said quietly, putting his hands on the scientist’s chest just above the bandages. They were both surprised when Szayel gasped and flinched at the touch.

He was soft, but burning up with fever from withdrawals and pain. Uryu stroked his fingers along Szayel’s chest to hopefully ease some of that rough pain. Szayel stuttered out a sigh in response. He leaned farther back against the bed to give Uryu more access to his mid-section. 

“…and who’s fault is that…?” Szayel barked quietly, face turning angry. “With the way you manhandled me…” 

“I didn’t…do this.” Even though there was a chance Uryu actually had. 

“Hmph.” 

Uryu sighed and wrapped his fingers around the cinch. He needed to take it off completely then re-wrap it around Szayel’s broken ribs. It was the only way to make sure the wrap did its job. As for the bandages, they were not too far fallen, they could stay where they were. 

“Alright, Szayel,” Uryu began. “I need to take off this cinch and re-tighten it. When it comes off, I need you to hold your breath or else it will hurt a lot. Can you do that?”

“Hmph…” Szayel blinked slowly, passing a hand over his numb mouth. “…who said you could call me that?”

Ignoring him, Uryu found the clasps he had sewn into the cinch. “I’m going to take it off now. Hold your breath on three, ok? One…two…three—”

Uryu quickly undid the cinch. Despite his protesting, he heard Szayel suck in a deep breath around a choked sob. No doubt the man had felt a harsh pang of discomfort when Uryu removed it.

The student raised the cinch and re-wrapped it around the man’s back. “Alright. I’m going to tighten it now. This will probably hurt, but I’ll try to be quick. Just…hold onto me if it’s too much, ok?”

Still holding his breath, Szayel regarded him with a furious expression. Uryu himself did not know why he offered that last part, if it would even help, but he remembered seeing his father do the same thing for a patient with a broken rib in the past. It had been a moment where Uryu genuinely admired his father. 

“Here I go…” 

Uryu gave the warning and folded the cinch tightly over Szayel’s broken ribs, pulling the bones back into place.

“Ah-ha!!” 

Szayel let go of his breath involuntarily as he cried out in pain. He clutched Uryu’s shoulders hard, fisting the fabric of the younger man’s shirt. 

“I know, I’m sorry. Almost done…” Uryu struggled to find the clasps on the cinch, running his fingers across the broken bones to make sure they were aligning properly. 

“Nnngh…ah…” Szayel choked out strangled cries. The pain was so much that his body started to shiver and he felt genuinely sick, like he might vomit. 

To keep himself steady, Szayel fell forward and buried his face against Uryu’s neck. He tried to inhale as much of Uryu’s sweet, spring breeze smell as he could; it was the only thing that could keep the nausea at bay. 

With Szayel collapsed against him, clinging to him, Uryu needed to finish the rest of the work by feel. He would not ask Szayel to move, he knew that Szayel would never have done this if he did not truly need to hold onto him. And Uryu remembered his father accomplishing the same task with the patient from his memory. He could do this…

So, not needing to see, Uryu closed his eyes and felt along Szayel’s ribs for the clasp. He tried to return the embrace with his arms, to let the man know he was there for him…but the main priority was re-doing the clasp.

Finally, he found it. He re-attached the hook and eye and exhaled quickly, holding Szayel in his arms. 

“There, it’s done, I’m done,” he breathed across Szayel’s back. 

The other man still held onto him tightly. He seemed reluctant (or afraid) to let go. But Uryu did not rush him. Slowly, Szayel setting the pace, he backed away from Uryu and righted himself, relaxing the grip on Uryu’s shoulders.

The student looked down at his handiwork. “That should hold,” he said, running his hands across the tightly bound fabric. “You shouldn’t move around too much or it might come loose again—”

Then Uryu fell silent. He had no choice, because Szayel buried his mouth underneath a bruising kiss. 

Szayel kissed him furiously, moaning quietly behind his mouth. He pushed the back of Uryu’s head closer to him for more contact. Uryu’s first instinct was to pull away, but he could not. His body froze then slowly erupted into warm pulses, spreading out from his lips and into the rest of him with thrumming intensity. It was his first kiss, admittedly, and it was nothing like he ever imagined. Szayel was rough and demanding, forcing their lips to clash as much as possible. 

Uryu’s mind was swimming in a million thoughts. But he still kissed him back. 

It felt like they were breathing together. Szayel’s lips were just as soft as he imagined, and wet…This kiss was starting to make Uryu hard. He felt the warmth in his body spread to the tip of his dick and decidedly stay there—

Just as suddenly as it started, it ended. Szayel pulled away abruptly, turning his head to the side. He promptly retched across the floor with a heaving sound that shattered the moment.

Uryu’s dick softened after that. 

Thankfully, Szayel had nothing in his stomach except water, so that was all that came up. Blinking and adjusting his glasses in confusion, Uryu laid his hand against Szayel’s back. He knew that stomach acid burned in its way up, so he rubbed his former superior’s back comfortingly. Szayel panted underneath him and retched a few more times. 

When there seemed to a break between heaves, Uryu made a suggestion. “Let’s get you back on the bed, Szayelaporro. So you can rest a bit.” 

“I…” Szayel began, still panting. “I need…”

He needed opium. No two ways around it. His plan had been to fight the building nausea from his rib pain by burying himself as much as possible in Uryu’s glorious scent, adding his taste to the mix to increase results.

And oh, it had worked wonderfully at first! For a few blissful moments, Szayel reveled in the sweet feeling of his assistant’s lips moving against his own. Hesitant at first, but still so full of want…

Then, Szayel had been seized by a crashing wave of itchiness and _need._ That want for the drug came back full force, wracking his body with a fresh wave of nausea that was impossible to fight.

So he vomited. Now, he was looking at Uryu, who looked back at him with a serious but slightly disheveled look. He had to tell him. He needed blackness, he needed the otherworld. Now, as soon as possible…

“I know, I know,” Uryu said to him, nodding solemnly. He knew his former superior was going through withdrawals. Nausea and vomiting were all part of the symptoms. “Come lay down, Granz-taichou. I’ll fix you something.” 

Fix…something…? Granz had no idea what that could be, but his body clung to the idea of relief. 

At Uryu’s encouragements, Szayel wrapped his arms around his assistant’s neck and let the man haul him to his feet. Thankfully, there was not far to go before Uryu gently placed him down on the bed. Still, Uryu had no trouble just lifting Szayel completely and laying him down princess-style. 

Fucking hell, Uryu had become so strong. Szayel would have been lying if he said he did not find such innate strength terribly arousing. He shivered in Uryu’s arms when the younger man lifted him. He let out a quiet moan of disappointment when Uryu left his side to go to the kitchen counter.

Laying on his back, Szayel’s mind felt like a pile of nerves and mush. He hated this feeling more than anything, the utter lack of concentration! So infuriating. The only thing his mind could really register was his twitching need for drug…and the gnawing want lingering along the surface of his body for Uryu to return.

“…Uryu…” Szayel called softly. Where the hell was that kid? What was taking him so long? 

“I’m here,” Uryu answered from the kitchen. He was hastily making tea, heating up what was leftover from the morning on the hotplate. He had also managed to find his old stash of sleeping pills. 

Back home, a doctor (thankfully not his father) had prescribed him these pills to help him sleep when his post-traumatic stress symptoms hit him hard. In the beginning they were a godsend, but Uryu had gradually learned to live without them. He was always wary of addiction to pills—and if Granz’s current state was any indication, he had been absolutely correct in his thinking.

Now, he broke off a pill and dissolved it in Granz’s tea. He hoped his former superior could sleep through the worst of the withdrawals.

It was his goal for Szayel to break his habit in the next few days. Or however long it took. He wanted the man to be free…

“…Uryu!” Szayel’s cries were getting more urgent from where he lay. 

“I’m coming, right here.” Uryu quickly finished stirring and carried the cup over to Granz. “Drink this.”

Szayel sniffed the drink warily. He could smell that it was laced with something, but he could not place the compound. He looked up at Uryu questioningly. Honestly, he had already accepted that he would drink whatever was in this cup (he trusted Uryu enough, what with the resettling of his bones, not to drug him with something poisonous), but he still wanted to know…

“It’s a sleeping pill, Granz,” Uryu said without any further prompting. “A mild barbiturate.” 

Granz took a sip. He could only taste the green tea. “Tell me the chemical formula,” he demanded, uncertain of the strength of such a compound.

“Ummm..” Uryu began, looking back over at the handful of pills. The box was long gone, no way he remembered something like the stupid formula, if indeed he ever knew it to begin with.

“Hmph.” Szayel quickly gulped down the rest of the drink. “And you want to major in chemistry…”

Uryu felt the sting of disappointing Szayel—a real throwback to war. Then he reminded himself of everything that had just happened. Instead of clearing his throat in embarrassment, he just smirked.

“Be quiet and get some rest, Granz,” Uryu said confidently. “I’m going to try and get some work done.”

Szayel’s mouth hung open at that response. Uryu had gotten downright cocky! He would need to do something about that boy’s attitude…but right now his eyelids were getting blissfully heavy… Without another word, Szayel fell into a blank sleep. 

Uryu sighed when he realized his superior was finally out. He hoped he would revitalize a bit while he slept. He straightened Szayel’s body on the bed and spread the blanket around him to keep him warm.

Finding himself close to Szayel’s face, Uryu blushed and remembered how they had just shared a kiss. An actual…kiss. The younger man touched a hand to his lips and relived the feeling of Szayel’s lips crushing his own.

It had been…so exciting. So…a shiver ran through his body as he remembered it. For sure, the memory was a fond one—Right up until Szayel turned his head and threw up all over the floor. 

Of course, it figured the first person he kissed in this world would vomit as an immediate reaction. That sounded par for the course for Uryu’s fucked up kind of life. 

Sighing, Uryu decided he would no longer try and question his attraction to Granz. If that kiss was any indication, whatever lay between them was something real and visceral, a chemical reaction so to speak. He was not alone in some strange perversion; Granz must have been feeling it too, to initiate a kiss that intense. So, Uryu would just have to accept that this thing was there, this feeling of want and sometimes…need… Uryu thought back to the stirrings of arousal that washed through him during that kiss. 

He sighed, chasing away the vestiges of desire. Oh yes, there was need there.

But what the hell was he going to do about it? Uryu had no idea. In a lot of ways, he wanted to do nothing and instead let whatever was meant to happen just happen on its own. 

Nodding to himself, Uryu bent down over Szayel. He really shouldn’t, but…Szayel sleeping so soundly like that, finally at peace, filled him with all kinds of emotions. He wanted to quite badly…

Giving in to temptation, Uryu placed a soft, chaste kiss to Szayel’s forehead. Then, he hurried away back to his desk where he could begin to work on his paper.

As it happened, Uryu had a wonderful idea for a research topic. It hit him like lightning. He took out his fountain pen and started writing: “The Effects of Addiction on Brain Chemistry."

A good start.

__________________________________________________________

Over the next two days, Uryu stayed locked up in his dormitory tending to Granz. Whenever his superior woke from his sleep, Uryu would force the man to eat a few handfuls of freshly cooked food. Granz always tried to complain at first that his stomach felt too uneasy for food, but as soon as he smelled whatever Uryu cooked, he instantly changed his mind. 

Granz never outright complimented Uryu’s cooking, nor did he ever come right out and thank him. But the gusto with which he eat, the satiated looks on his face, and the warm glow in his eyes he wore whenever he looked at Uryu…these were all more than enough praise and thanks. 

After eating, Uryu would make more barbiturate-laced tea for Granz. The scientist was beginning to request that Uryu increase his dosage, but Uryu would never do that. In fact, sometimes he just made Granz plain tea with nothing, refraining from telling him, so as to employ the placebo effect. 

Still, Uryu could not help but notice that instead of getting better, in a lot of ways, Granz seemed to be getting worse. His periods of sleep shortened and Uryu would need to sit for a while by his side and mop up his sweat, lest the scientist catch pneumonia or something in his weakened state, checking on the bandages around his chest in the process. 

Granz moaned constantly about Uryu retrieving the chemicals he had left in the laboratory. He explained again and again how Uryu could make a wonderful substitution for opium with those drugs. But Uryu either pretended not to hear or simply answered, “No.”

To distract him, Uryu told Granz stories of everything that had happened to him since the war. Despite his protests, Granz was actually very interested in these things. He listened attentively, even tracking with his eyes sometimes (which he never did, even when sober). Uryu—who hated reliving the past—told him everything he could think of about the past five years. He even slipped into retelling mundane things, just to keep Granz satisfied and attending. He told him about his grandfather Souken, about the _torii_ near his home, even about his own father (and so it finally came out why Uryu had been placed in the role of Granz’s assistant back in the war).

Such little stories seemed to please Granz very much. After a story, the scientist would always make some comment about something new he had just figured out about Uryu. “So that’s why you…” or “I see. That explains your penchant for…” 

In truth, Szayel loved these little bits of data. He liked piecing together a story about someone, especially someone as interesting as Uryu. Beyond that, he loved the simple of joy of listening to Uryu’s voice as he talked at length. Of course, he would never admit that last part, but…sometimes Uryu’s voice was enough to keep him hanging onto his sanity in the dark moments when the itchiness threatened to overtake him.

Thankfully, classes had started to wind down for the semester to give the students enough time to work on their research papers. Uryu made plenty of headway with his paper on the effects of addiction—he decided he would tell Szayel that he was writing a paper about him only after it was finished. Not before. Or else Szayel might derail the whole thing, by demanding that Uryu not use him as a test subject, or by simply taking control of the paper and dictating lines to Uryu as if he were the author.

Still, it was a relief to actually get something done.

By the end of the second day, Uryu was surprised by an unannounced visit from Orihime. As soon as he saw her standing outside his door, Uryu realized he had left her with a huge mess in the laboratory to clean up. He bowed at the waist several times and offered some bags of tea in recompense. 

But Orihime waved all that off. “Don’t worry about that, Ishida-kun,” she explained, her eyes filled with anxiety. “I cleaned it up as best I could then told Urahara-sensei that there had been a break in.”

“Did you…tell them anything else?” Uryu asked nervously.

“No.” Orhime’s lips pressed into a thin line. She peered around Uryu’s shoulder and caught a glimpse of Szayel laying in bed, tossing and turning in his sleep. “So. He’s still with you?”

Uryu sighed and decided to let Orihime in. Once inside, she stared openly at Szayel, not even bothering to sit down like they were having a normal conversation. Uryu did not even know where to begin explaining.

Luckily, Orihime was way ahead of him on that front. “He’s an addict, isn’t he?” she asked.

“Y-yes…” he admitted. “I’m helping him…overcome it, though.”

“Mm.” Orihime was quiet, her wide eyes swept across to the kitchen. Unbidden, she began to brew a kettle of hot water. 

Uryu thought about stopping her, but realized that in a lot of ways he was at her mercy. If Orihime decided to tell the college that he was harboring an addict, unannounced, in his dormitory, it would be grounds for expulsion, probably. Especially after what Szayel did in the laboratory. Really, Orihime was the only thing keeping them both from being out on the street. 

“Opium, right?” Orihime asked suddenly.

“Uh, y-yes…” Uryu had no idea how she knew that. It showed on his face.

She flashed him a smile. “I could tell by the chemicals he left behind in the lab. Looked like he was trying to make a synthetic copy.”

Oh, right. Uryu nodded along. Damn, he forgot how smart Orihime was sometimes. She was probably the most likely in their class to get a scholarship to medical school, if that’s what she wanted. Pissed off a lot of the guys around campus to have a girl one-up them on grades, (Gekkouban had only been co-ed since the occupation, anyway), but Uryu would never stop admiring her for it.

Out of nowhere, Orihime pulled out a whole hunk of ginger root from her pocket. It was huge! Uryu knew she could not have gotten that anywhere other than the blackmarket. He would keep his mouth shut about that too. But why did she have that…?

She plopped the ginger into a steaming cup of water, letting it brew as tea. Her face set seriously, she turned back to Szayel and brought the cup near his lips.

As soon as Szayel smelled the ginger, his eyes slid open, the gold peering curiously out from underneath his eyelids. The ginger smell went right to his stomach and made him feel…grounded for the first time in quite a while.

“Ginger tea is a great help,” Orihime told him, titling her head to the side. She wore her kindest expression, eyes brimming with the desire to help. “It settles the stomach. I know you’re probably feeling nauseous right now, aren’t you? Try it.” 

Szayel took a few sips of the drink, holding the cup around Orihime’s hand. He eyed Uryu as he drank and the younger man nodded, letting him know it was alright to trust this girl. As soon as the tea hit his stomach, Szayel felt a wave of relief. 

He sighed audibly and Orihime smiled brightly. She knew her plan had worked.

“Who…are you…?” Szayel asked groggily.

“My name’s Inoue Orihime! I’m Ishida-kun’s friend.” 

“Ishida-kun…?” Szayel’s eyes crawled over to Uryu. He smirked, finally remembering Uryu’s family name. Then he fell back to sleep.

“Thank you so much, Inoue-san!” Uryu ran to Orihime’s side as she stood up. He bowed rapidly several times to show his gratitude. “I honestly…don’t know how to thank you for your kindness…please, if there’s anything I can do…” He trailed off because he knew there was nothing.

Orihime sat at Uryu’s desk. She looked at the pile of papers he had strewn about and nodded, seeing the beginnings of his thesis. Then she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“You’re missing a lot of classes, Ishida-kun. What are you going to do…?”

“I…don’t know,” Uryu admitted. “I’ve already written to Urahara-sensei and explained to him that I have a family emergency, but that doesn’t explain why I’m…still on campus. So I haven’t sent the letter yet.” 

Orihime nodded, her face set in determination. “Don’t send it. I have a better idea. Tatsuki-chan and I have already agreed, we’ll give you all the notes you’re missing from the rest of classes this semester. You share your classes with at least one of us, right?”

“Yeah…” Uryu blinked.

“So. We’ll give you the notes. All you need to do is write your papers and take the final exams. One of us can…watch over him, if you need, when you go to take the tests. In that way, all your grades will be squared away! Just study hard Ishida-kun and make sure you get all your assignments done. If there’s anything you need in the lab, let us know—”

“Orihime.” Uryu shocked them both by using her first name. “Why…would you offer to do something like this? To help us…?”

For a moment, she looked almost hurt. “What…do you mean ‘why’? We’re friends…aren’t we, Ishida-kun?”

“Well, yes, of course—”

“And friends help each other in times of need, don’t they? Especially now, when that time is over and all we have are our friends and the kindness of strangers…this is something I would do for anyone, Ishida-kun! And you are a good person to help him like this. I want to help you with whatever you need, okay?” She smiled softly. “Just let me handle it.”

For a solid minute, Uryu thought he might cry. He had never seen such unadulterated kindness before. He thought such things were dead in the world, but apparently…not. Orihime had lived just as difficult of a life as he had (maybe even worse if her whole family was dead) but she still found ways to dig up true compassion from the deepest of places.

Adjusting his glasses to hide his overwhelmed face, Uryu cleared his throat and nodded. 

“…Thank you, Inoue-san. For everything.” 

He hugged her then. The only way he knew to show her how much her kindness meant to him. And of course, she hugged him right back.

“Anytime, Ishida-kun. You just let me know what you need.” She smiled so brightly he thought she might start to cry as well. Then, she broke out into a laugh, changing the subject thankfully. “It looks like we might have to take a rain check on the trip to De-Lovely!” 

Her eyes slid mischievously over to where Szayel lay on the bed. She looked back at Uryu knowingly, full-on grinning at him this time. 

The young man blushed harder than he ever had in his life. Still, Orihime laughed and patted him on the shoulder. As if nothing had happened, she started pulling out reams and reams of note paper for Uryu to read.

Through it all, Uryu was never more grateful to have her as a friend.

___________________________________________________________

By the third day, Szayel dissolved into a complete mess. Uryu tried everything; he brewed more ginger tea, which his superior was not able to keep down. He had run out of sleeping pills (not think he would need to stretch them this far, he should have only used half from the beginning). 

Despite everything, Uryu was honestly starting to consider going to the lab for chemicals. Anything to calm Szayel down from the constant thrashing and writhing, breaking out into frustrated screams at odd intervals. 

From where Szayel lay on Uryu’s bed, he was fairly certain he had already descended into hell. Every part of his body cried for something, he wasn’t eve sure the other world would help him anymore, he was too far gone…but god damn how he wanted to try! He just needed the sweet embrace of the void to make his body stop trying to destroy itself.

With each moment, he felt like he absolutely burning up, hotter than he had ever been. He threw the blankets off himself, only to feel like he had been dunked in cold water. Now he was freezing. He was positive he had a fever. He could vaguely feel Uryu’s presence at his side, trying to blot his forehead with a damp washcloth. 

“Uryu…” he called, hoping his words sounded coherent enough. Were his lips even moving? He could not feel them through the numbness.

“I’m here, Szayel.” Uryu had been keeping watch at Szayel’s side for about two hours with no change.

Another scream broke through the scientist’s lips. It felt like his nerve endings were at war with each other, trying to make his skin erupt into flame or else make his stomach upend itself entirely. He would welcome either of these things if it meant some relief!

“…Uryu…” Szayel cried again. Had Uryu abandoned him after all? He could not feel him nearby so much anymore… 

This time, Uryu grabbed his hand to let him know he had heard and that he was still there. At the contact, Szayel’s eyes flew open. He stared into Uryu’s sapphire eyes, silently begging for something.

“What is it, Szayel, what do you need?” Uryu asked desperately. He was honestly starting to panic. Maybe he should just go get the drugs…was Szayel going to die here? His mind was shorting out with fear.

“I need…” Szayel said, then a tremor wracked his body and he stopped. Breathing deeply, he started again, “I need it, Uryu…you know what I need…”

Uryu clenched his teeth hard. His own body went rigid with indecision and an absolute hate for the drug itself. He hated watching Szayel go through this. On a normal day, he would say Szayel hated Uryu seeing him like this, but it seemed the scientist was past caring about that at this low point.

“…I…” Uryu began unsteadily.

“Just!” Szayel thrashed against the sheets. “Just, let me…just let me go, Uryu…”

The man Uryu held in such high esteem seemed to be literally crumpling before his eyes. 

Resolve settling within his chest, Uryu shook his head no. “I can’t do that, Szayelaporro. You know I can’t.” 

“Please…let me go…” Szayel looked like he was trying to cry but couldn’t. His body could not handle such a thing at that moment.

“No.” 

Uryu knew that if he let him go now, he would be letting go for good. There would be no coming back.

So no. He would stay strong.

The student stood up and removed his own shirt. There were no more drugs that could help them at this point. He would just need to hold him through it. Firm in his decision, Uryu lifted Szayel’s shoulders and fit himself down on the bed underneath him. 

He wrapped the frail, sweat-drenched scientist in his arms. 

Immediately, Szayel’s head rolled around Uryu’s chest, reveling in the natural warmth from his bare skin. Uryu was quite muscular underneath his shirt, with well-formed pectorals. Had he been a better state of mind, the scientist would surely have stopped to admire the sight. Instead, he just pressed his cheek against Uryu’s hard chest. He breathed in the younger man’s scent deeply and tried to calm his fried, dying nerves.

Uryu swept the matted hair off Szayel’s neck to cool him. He whispered things that he hoped were comforting, “Shh, it’s alright now. This will pass. It will pass, I promise. I’m here…”

This time, Szayel heard every word. He held onto those words in his mind as hard as he could, repeating them to himself over and over again, trying to ingrain Uryu’s voice in his head. Uryu was the voice of sanity, of reason. The scientist clung to that voice, to this impossibly strong man underneath him. He would hold on for dear life.

Szayel’s hands flailed and found Uryu’s legs, clad only in dress pants. He gripped Uryu’s thighs with all his might to keep himself grounded in reality.

The black-haired man grunted in response; that actually hurt a little bit. But he would not stop Szayel. If he needed to do that, Uryu would let him. He tried to think of things that would help this man, and he remembered a vague memory of his mother. When he was a child with a fever, his mother used to stroke his forehead gently…

So Uryu pulled back the bangs on Szayel’s forehead and ran the backs of his fingers across the burning skin. He whispered, “It’ll be alright. I’ll stay with you until it passes. Just breathe…”

Szayel moaned at the combination of cool fingers on his head and the knowledge that Uryu would stay with him. 

_This beautiful young man,_ thought Szayelaporro hazily. _How has he found me? He must not be a real person. He feels more like an angel…_

In that moment, Szayel truly thought he could feel a cool, comforting glow coming from Uryu. An odd blue lighting, as if he were wrapped in a blanket of sheer light, like an angel’s wing… Did that make sense? Was that reality? 

Oh, who the fuck knew. Szayel only knew what he felt and at that moment he felt wrapped in some soft wonderful piece of spiritual essence from Uryu. It was the most relief he had had in days.

Uryu watched Szayel moan a bit as he slowly began to settle against him. Suddenly, for no reason, he swallowed hard. Now he was starting to get hot. Probably because a feverish man was currently sitting in lap, but also because…

Well, Uryu had started to notice Szayel’s hands on his thighs. Dangerously high. And the thrashing against his chest and…lower…right up against his groin, basically. Not to mention the look of relief on Szayel’s shiny face, his features settling at last, the moaning…

Yeah, Uryu had a hard-on. 

Nothing he could do about that. He just hoped Szayel could not feel it. Fortunately (or..unfortunately, considering how wrong this all was), Szayel looked like he had fallen into an uneasy sleep.

So, for the rest of the night, Uryu held Szayel in his arms and pretended he did not have erection. He was ashamed of himself, of course, for being turned on by a man who was suffering so much…but, what could he say? He was after all a normal hot blooded young male. And Szayelaporro was so beautiful…Uryu just wanted to hold him forever.

It was a rather scary night, considering how close Szayel came to the abyss and how near Uryu had come to giving in. But by the end, they had settled into each other quite nicely. Uryu almost did not want morning to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reference to Uryu's Letzt Stil. *thumbs up* Much love for that guy.
> 
> I also love Orihime, if you couldn't tell! I think she works so well as bro character! Bro-ihime!!
> 
> Anyway, I will be leaving for my honeymoon this weekend and so I seriously doubt I will be able to post any more updates until I come back. Hope you enjoyed this double post! See you at the end of July! :)


	5. Body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Uryu and Szayel realize what makes up their relationship, as well as its boundaries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Good to be back! My honeymoon was glorious, tons of fun. Still operating on Japan time now, so I've been binge-writing in the odd hours of the day haha.
> 
> So basically, I want the rest of this story to be sexy times and schmoopy feelings. That's always where I end up, so yup! This chapter has tons of smut, so that's what that is :)
> 
> Warning for some still-asleep touching, which I guess is technically dub-con so watch out for that! But I won't add it in the tags because it gets rather consensual rather fast.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Chapter Five: Body**

The first thing Szayel registered in the waking world was warmth. Not the choking, soul crushing heat from the night before (that had almost killed him, he knew). No, instead he felt a sweet, embracing kind of warmth that made him loathe to open his eyes at all.

So for a while, Szayel just laid there. Basking in the wonderful sensation of being held.

Eventually he was able to pinpoint the arms around his torso and waist, the skin-on-skin feeling slick against his back. As consciousness broke over him, the scientist realized he had more control over his limbs now. He rolled his head and felt more skin brushing against the side of his face. So warm. Like his own personal hot spring…

And ah, the smell. Szayel would recognize it anywhere. This scent was earthier now, he realized, probably from a night spent sweating under Szayel’s own feverish body. More primal. More real. Szayel inhaled deeply and allowed himself a genuine, contented, cat-purring-under-human-hand grin. 

“…Uryu…” Szayel whispered the name across the younger man’s bare chest. 

He could feel his assistant’s torso rising and falling with even breaths from an unhindered sleep. Szayel opened his eyes then, slowly (lest any unfiltered light wrench him back into nausea). 

The cold early morning sun greeted him. He was exactly where he had fallen asleep (or, whatever it could be called) the night before. Uryu’s bedroom, the scant familiarity of his shack. 

Ah yes. He felt so, so much better. For once, for the first time in five years, Szayel felt like he could register small things again. The light shining in from the window, casting a yellow glow onto the wooden floor. The soft sound of Uryu’s breathing from his nose, right by Szayel’s ear. 

And the warmth, of course. It spread across his skin like waves lapping gently at a shore. Szayel could not remember that last time he had felt so warm, so honestly comfortable.

For once, Szayel was able to think for several minutes without registering the need for drug. He remembered his need almost like an after-thought, upon going through a mental checklist of perfunctory things his body required. And yes, the need for opium was still there, but it was quieter now. So, so much quieter. 

Szayel could think again. The gears in his mind, rusty from what felt like a lifetime of disuse, began slowly starting to churn again. He realized everything that had happened since being reunited with Uryu.

The younger man faithfully tended to his wounds, stopped him from procuring more drugs from the lab, and then stayed by his side doggedly while Szayel sweated through the worst of his withdrawals. …Had Uryu really done all that?

Curious, Szayel raised himself into a sitting position, letting Uryu’s hands fall naturally onto the bed at his sides. Then he turned around to leer at the younger man. 

Sure enough, Uryu just laid there underneath him. Blissfully asleep, as if he had fallen into unconsciousness the same way a man falls down a hole he doesn’t know is ahead of him. Szayel carefully observed all the subdued features of Uryu’s face, leaning forward to regard him more closely. Inches away, Szayel finally felt satisfied.

Yes, Uryu had done everything for him these past few…days, was it? Longer? Szayel could not be sure, but he remembered Uryu’s voice grounding him and guiding him through hell. Uryu’s slender hands holding his own, reminding him he was not alone.

_“Shh, it’s alright now. This will pass. It will pass, I promise. I’m here…”_

Szayel could hear Uryu’s words ingrained in his memory. It had been glorious hearing Uryu’s calming, ever-present voice in the back of his mind. He wanted to keep that voice there forever.

_“It’ll be alright. I’ll stay with you until it passes. Just breathe…”_

As Szayel regarded Uryu’s delicate face, he thought about what on earth could possibly have motivated the younger man to do all that for him. Sure, Uryu was nothing if not loyal to fault. But Szayel was no longer his commanding officer, the war ended five years ago…everything was different now…

Unless, Szayel realized slowly, Uryu did not want things to be different. At least, not between the two of them. Did Uryu enjoy serving Szayel? Did he get pleasure from tending to him, from easing his suffering?

Well, Uryu did have the heart of a healer in him. Inherited from his father, from a long line of people who believed in good will. That was his nature. Beyond that, Szayel knew that he and Uryu had developed some kind of…understanding between them. Even before the war ended that was true. There was a mutual degree of trust there. And now, for the first time, Szayel was beginning to realize how much he cherished that trust.

So good, Szayel thought. He reached out and brushed some stray black bangs from Uryu’s forehead. His boy was so, so good…like a little angel… The very thought made Szayel’s face scrunch into an eerie grin. It was hilarious thinking of Uryu like an angel, but so fitting! How genuine the boy was, how sweet and caring, how unfit for the harshness of this world…

Chuckling to himself, Szayel leaned forward and laid a kiss on Uryu’s nose. Alright, fine. So, he adored Uryu. Szayel was willing to live with that.

After all, no one else (not one single person in this world) would have done even half as much for Szayel as Uryu had. Szayel would admit that in a heartbeat, because it was sheer fact! No one would have…devoted themselves to Szayel like Uryu had done, so willingly, without any coercion or even any real obligation. Therefore, Szayel could conclude that there was no other creature on earth like Ishida Uryu. He was unique, a fascinating one of a kind gem. 

Szayel ran the backs of his fingers down Uryu’s face. His boy’s skin was so soft, so fine. And quite pale, he noted. (Was Uryu ingesting enough essential vitamins and minerals for proper melatonin production? Perhaps Szayel should create a compound of isoflavone and cholecalciferol, then administer some to Uryu’s food just to make sure…) 

Turning over the thought in his head, Szayel bent down once more and kissed Uryu gently on the cheek. He should let his boy rest for now, anyway. The kid had more than earned it. 

After carefully extricating himself from Uryu, making sure not to wake him, Szayel gingerly rose to his feet. His knees wobbled a bit from lack of use and general fatigue (as well as the leftover shakiness from his withdrawals). Still, Szayel felt elated to be able to stand on his own two feet (quite literally) again. He raised his arms high above his head and stretched languidly, feeling all his sore muscles expand and retract, his bones creaking back into place. Miraculously, the cinch on his waist had held firm and Szayel patted his ribs carefully in recognition. Still sore, still healing. 

Then Szayel went to find Uryu’s shower. He did not know if perhaps Uryu showered like a westerner or owned a small bath like a traditional Japanese, (in truth Szayel rather preferred a good soak). But sure enough, all Uryu sported was a meager, light-spraying shower head adjacent to his bedroom. The scientist clicked his teeth, registering somewhere the disappointment that both he and Uryu would not be able to properly clean themselves here. But that was to be expected. Maybe soon, he could visit a public _onsen_ with Uryu…

Ah, an _onsen._ Szayel had not frequented such a place in quite a while. As he stripped down to nothing and turned on the shower, the scientist thought what it might be like to rub soap over Uryu’s back and scrub him down…would Uryu let him? Or would he be too embarrassed to allow someone else the privilege of washing him? Szayel chuckled again, thinking how he might coerce Uryu into letting himself receive a proper, thorough cleansing.

A vision of Uryu, red-faced and wet, sighing happily under Szayel’s hands. The pink haired man grinned and made a mental note to make that happen some day. 

Szayel took his time in the shower. The water felt amazing in spite of how subpar the apparatus was. He did not even want to think about how long it had been since he had allowed himself time to adequately clean…shameful, really. But no one needed to know about that. Besides he could hardly be blamed for such a lapse, considering…

When he was done, Szayel wrapped himself in a spare _yukata_ he found folded in a drawer. (Was he rummaging through Uryu’s things? Sure, but in the name of decency…) He rejoiced in being able to wear something other than those foul trousers he had been sporting for…quite some time. Even the simplicity of a clean _yukata_ felt like a delicacy. Szayel admired himself in Uryu’s mirror, combing out his pink hair with a smile, straightening the garment so it fell just above his feet. The robe was gray with vertical blue stripes, a traditional affair. But fine. Szayel flattened the fabric against his sides happily.

Finished, Szayel went back and sat on the edge of Uryu’s bed. He was careful not to bounce the mattress and wake the younger man, deeming it necessary that Uryu continue sleeping as much as possible.

He thought for a while. Where could he procure more suitable clothes? Did he even have any money on him? …No, he didn’t. How could he get more? Beyond that, how could he ever…repay Uryu? Even Szayel—a graceless bastard at the best of times—knew that he owed Uryu _something_ for everything the boy had done. He hated owing people. But right now he had absolutely no cash to speak of, no way to really show him…

“Nnn…ah…” 

Szayel was startled from his thoughts by a small sound from Uryu. He turned around and regarded his boy. 

“Mmm…” Uryu’s face contracted into a frown and he began to squirm where he lay. Still asleep, but agitated.

Intrigued once again, Szayel looked Uryu up and down. In his newfound clarity, he was able to honestly say…he really liked what he saw. 

Uryu’s chest was well-muscled (as the scientist had found out the night before), but not bulky. In fact, on the whole the younger man was a very slim person, but his arms showed definite lines of muscle and tone near the shoulders. Did Uryu practice some kind of activity to make his upper arms strong? Archery, perhaps? It was the only thing Szayel could think of in the moment (even though he knew only select people really went in for the old fashioned sports). But he truly enjoyed the thought of Uryu with a taut bow stretched in one hand, hair whipping around his face as he focused on a mark, small eyes honed on a target…

Uryu had a face that was designed for marksmanship. Or maybe just intensity.

“Hmm…” Szayel purred, inching closer to Uryu as he watched him dream.

Sure. Szayel had always found Uryu attractive enough. Even objectively, back when they first met. Uryu was a young good-looking boy (did Szayel have a weakness for young, good-looking, twenty-something-year-old boys? Actually yes, he did, but he never went out of his way to talk about it). 

Now there was something different about Uryu. His assistant seemed to radiate perfection, like all light in the room would be drawn to him completely by nature. Szayel was transfixed. He wanted to keep staring; it made him excited to look at this beautiful young man who was—and Szayel had already accepted this—his. 

Yes, his. The pink haired man reached out and ghosted the tips of his fingers along Uryu’s chest. He smirked when the younger man’s body tightened in automatic response. 

It was only fair. If Uryu was going to treat him like something worth saving then fuck, Szayel was going to treat Uryu like the precious thing he was. Besides, Uryu had _always_ been his. Since the day they met in the Philippines. Szayel did not even need to think hard about it—he was already moving on to the next step: The actual cherishing part. 

Szayel adjusted his position so that his legs straddled Uryu’s on either side. He was careful not to lean down too much in case his weight woke up the young man. So he just sort of hovered there on his knees, looking down at Uryu as the black-haired man’s face twitched in his sleep. 

Uryu had fallen asleep in his glasses, of course, and they had gone slightly askew. Seeing an opportunity, Szayel reached down and slid Uryu’s glasses off his face. He inspected the lenses for a moment, deciding that Uryu was in fact near-sighted but not terribly so. Then he placed them down the nightstand and looked at Uryu’s bare face. 

So much younger he looked. It was almost surprisingly! Szayel brushed the parted bangs away from Uryu’s face to get a better look. Holy hell, at this angle, Uryu looked like he could still be a high school student, even though Szayel knew Uryu was twenty six. The only part of his face that gave him away was a single crease running down in between his eyebrows, evidence of excessive frowning.

“Heh…” Szayel smirked to himself. He set one of his knees in between Uryu’s legs for a better vantage point, so he could thoroughly examine the wrinkle. Perhaps even smooth it if he could…

Delicately, without making any sound, Szayel traced the crease in Uryu’s brow a few times. Uryu made a sound like he felt it, tossing his head a little. Experimentally, Szayel pressed down on the loose skin there and Uryu’s face relaxed completely. Amazing…

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, Szayel felt something hard pressing against the top of his thigh. He glanced down and blinked a few times, unsure he had felt correctly (because in this suggestive position that could only be one thing…). He shifted his leg against that rigid weight to test his theory, and Uryu sucked in air as a response. 

Now this was fascinating. 

Szayel leaned back to peer into Uryu’s lap. Sure enough, there pressing against Uryu’s brown cotton pants as a tell-tale bulge between his legs. Szayel could already see a rapidly thickening outline of a more than modest cock.

The scientist licked his lips in excitement. 

So many questions ran through his mind. How long had Uryu been excited? Had Szayel somehow missed his boy getting a hard on when they slept pressed together? Was this just a typical case of morning arousal or was Uryu turned on by Szayel’s touches? Beyond that, even under pants Szayel could tell that Uryu had a slightly thicker than average cock…longer than he might have expected from someone of Uryu’s slim stature. What would that cock look like bare? What would it look like in Szayel’s hand? In his mouth? In his…?

Wiping the corners of his mouth to keep from drooling, Szayel rose up to his knees, straddling Uryu’s legs again. He marveled at the sight of an asleep, aroused Uryu. For fuck’s sake, Uryu was an erotic vision like this and Szayel wanted to touch all of him. He wondered briefly if Uryu would appreciate any kind of touching, then he instantly decided that Uryu would love it. 

Szayel would make sure he did. Then perhaps in this way he could begin to repay Uryu for everything else. Besides, who didn’t like to be woken up by some titillating stroking? 

Gleefully, Szayel reached out and lightly cupped the bulge in Uryu’s trousers. He hummed in appreciation, filing away for further study the myriad of thoughts he had about this burgeoning cock. He rubbed the tips of his fingers across the length of it, feeling its presence and watching it jerk actively under his hand.

“Unnh…” Uryu groaned, shifting in his sleep. 

Taking it as a sign he was doing something right, Szayel laid down across Uryu’s body, stretching himself so that they were chest to chest. He trailed his nose across Uryu’s face and into the black, cropped hair on the side of his head. He continued to stroke and squeeze Uryu’s hardness as sighed contentedly at the glorious smell of his boy. Then he started pressing soft kisses into Uryu’s neck, groaning when he felt the softness of that bare skin against his lips…

That was right about the time that Uryu started to wake up. He felt an unobtrusiveweight across his body, accompanied by something feathery and slightly wet on his neck. The touches there felt quite good, aggravating his already hard to manage arousal that he had been dealing with since he got in bed with Szayel. But he was confused because there was also pressure on his—

The young student jolted awake, eyes snapping open as he realized he was being manhandled in his sleep. He immediately recognized a mop of pink hair in his face, a spindly hand tracing the muscles on his shoulder and another hand grabbing of a fistful of him…down there.

“Anh!” Uryu choked as Szayel’s tongue explored the skin on his neck. Surprise and panic fell away for a moment as Uryu was consumed by a wave of pleasure.

This felt…god, it felt amazing.

“Morning.” Szayel greeted him with a whisper in his ear, like nothing was wrong. Then he lightly licked the cartilage there and rubbed his teeth along Uryu’s earlobe. 

Uryu cried out as his cock jumped under Szayel’s hand. His hips were starting to pivot, rubbing himself against Szayel as if he were shameless. Realizing all at once that this was crazy and made absolutely no sense, Uryu’s face broke out into a deep flush of embarrassment and confusion. He began sweating and stammering all at once. 

“S-szayelaporro…ah, nnnuh…” But Uryu’s ears were so sensitive when Szayel licked him right there! His body was bending to the attention and his cock pressed so hard against his zipper it actually hurt quite a bit. “Wh-what are you…doing…?”

“Mmm…” Szayel kissed along the length of his neck again. “Fondling you.” 

“Y-yes, I see that, but wh—ah!” One hard squeeze to his dick and Uryu needed to bite his lip to keep from coming. Shit, he couldn’t just come right here, like this, in his pants… But then, Uryu had been fighting down an erection all night. Not to mention that he had not had any time to…relieve himself at all over the past week, what with taking care of Szayel. And this was the first time anyone had ever…!

It was all new, but Uryu’s body was already begging for it.

“Why, you mean?” Szayel asked, leaning back for a moment to sit on his knees. Oh, Uryu looked _beautiful_ like this: Flushed, glasses off, eyes searching him underneath a cloud of pleasure, cock insistently pushing against his hand. 

Szayel knew he would not be able to help himself from here on out. And he had no intention of trying.

“Hmm, well…” Szayel trailed both his hands down Uryu’s chest, rubbing his palms against Uryu’s nipples a few times. He grinned when Uryu’s back arched up to meet his touch. “I saw that you were already at attention. Right…here.” 

Szayel squeezed his member again, making Uryu bring a hand to his mouth to stifle a sob. 

“So I thought I would relieve you. Doesn’t it feel good?” Szayel started unzipping Uryu’s pants, pulling them down with both impatience and practiced ease alike.

“Ah, wait, but…” Uryu grabbed Szayel’s hands to stop him before he removed his boxer shorts, the last scrap of clothing on him. “Are you…feeling okay? I mean, how are you?” 

With shaking, fumbling hands, Uryu reached up to feel Szayel’s forehead for a temperature. Szayel let him feel his cooled skin for himself, smirking to cover up a tingling feeling in his chest. Why was Uryu so damn gentle with him all the time? Ah, his sweet, caring boy… 

Uryu looked surprised to find that Szayel’s fever had indeed broken. The scientist grabbed Uryu’s hand and covered it in kisses.

“See? I’m fine. Never felt better, in fact.” Szayel resettled himself and wrapped his hands around the hemline of Uryu’s underwear. How he wanted to just expose his boy already! But he would wait until Uryu looked a little less hesitant. 

“I suppose I have to thank you for that,” Szayel concluded.

Uryu sighed and leaned his head back against the bed. His immediate feelings were sheer gratitude and relief that Szayel had survived the night just fine. And now he seemed more lucid (strangely, considering the circumstances) than ever before in these past weeks. Had his superior finally managed to kick his addiction? It looked quite promising that he was on the road to recovery.

“You don’t need to thank me, Granz-taichou,” Uryu said, looking up with a weary, grateful smile. “I’m just glad you’re feeling alright—oh…!”

Szayel had seized the opportunity to run his hands up and down Uryu’s thighs. Uryu’s body felt highly sensitized, sensitive in places Uryu himself had never explored before. Szayel’s thumbs on the sides of his knees were making his dick start to leak in excitement. Simple touches like that had never felt so good…?

But it was clear that underneath Szayel’s skillful hands, every touch dragged a response out of Uryu. 

“Yes, I feel great,” Szayel asserted. He hooked his thumbs around Uryu’s underwear again. “Now, if you please. I really do want to thank you.” 

He leaned down to kiss Uryu’s soft (admittedly un-toned) stomach. “Will you let me, Uryu?”

Eyes threatening to close, Uryu looked back at Szayel. He was torn in a way—fuck, he honestly wanted Szayel to just keep touching him and never, ever stop, but…this was so sudden and Uryu had not really had time to consider this kind of intimate touching with his superior. Sure, he had been dreaming of Szayel in…compromising…positions for weeks, but this was reality. And how would Szayel feel if he found out that Uryu had never been with anyone else? That Uryu was not even truly comfortable with the idea of his own sexuality yet?

Waiting with a surprising amount of patience, Szayel kissed his way along Uryu’s stomach. Taking all the time in the world, Szayel rested his chin on his hand from in between Uryu’s legs. He looked unbothered by Uryu’s hesitance. 

“So? What do you think?” Szayel stroked the inside of Uryu’s thigh with the backs of his fingers. “Are you going to let me touch the rest of you?” 

While he waited, he kissed Uryu’s knee and sat up straight. He was beginning to think that Uryu looked far too shy to give in. So instead, Szayel combed his fingers through Uryu’s hair and smiled broadly. “Or…am I going to have to think of some other way to thank you?” 

Hearing that, Uryu placed his hands on Szayel’s back. Those golden eyes shone down on him and Uryu could only stare back as his heart melted under their gaze. Fuck, there was no way he could say no to that face. The face that he had practically worshipped during the war…even now.

So. Uryu shook his head. He didn’t want to fight this. Everything felt too good, too perfect with Szayel. And he knew he wasn’t being forced. He wanted to let Szayel have his way, to feel more of Szayel’s god-like hands and unearthly lips…to let his own body take control for once. Do what felt right.

“…A-alright, Szayel…” Uryu said quietly. “…You can touch me…” 

Breaking out into a wild grin, the pink haired man let out a small shout of excitement and success (Uryu recognized it as the same sound Szayel made when an experiment turned out to be conclusive). 

“But, just—”

Whatever Uryu meant to say was lost as Szayel wasted no time pulling off the younger man’s boxers in a swift rush of fabric and limbs. Finally naked, Uryu stared back and forth between himself (his obscenely red, swollen cock) and Szayel’s hungry gaze. 

“Mmmmm…” Szayel hummed. He stretched out between Uryu’s legs again. “You are so beautiful, Uryu…” 

“Wh-what…?” Uryu blinked back in confusion (no one had ever called him that before, obviously, no one said that to a man). He opened his mouth to say something but was immediately cut off by a long, loud moan of pleasure.

Oh shit. That had come from his own mouth. Uryu bit his knuckles quickly to keep from making any more noise.

But Szayel paid no mind. His bare hand curled lovingly around Uryu’s bare cock, stroking the top of his thick shaft in Uryu’s first ever experience with intimacy. The scientist eyed Uryu’s cock as if it were some fascinating piece of laboratory work. He made note of each slight detail in its appearance, even slowly rolled back the foreskin to get a good look at the glistening, bare head. Dripping wet, shining. Dark red and throbbing…

Feeling smooth, deft hands on that part of his body…Uryu’s mind went blank. He felt like he was being stroked in his most sensitive place with silk or velvet. He knew it was just hands, just Szayel’s long beautiful fingers, but…every touch made his body contract in bliss, riding a hard wave of pleasure that burned its way through him. 

Out of control.

“S-szayel…!” Uryu stammered. His balls tightened and his stomach clenched, he didn’t know if he could fight it…

Glancing back at Uryu’s disheveled face, Szayel licked his lips and ran his fingers up the side of Uryu’s cock. He gently rubbed the head of Uryu’s dick between his thumb and forefinger, thinking he would try to make Uryu feel each sensation to the fullest—

Without warning, Uryu climaxed with a broken cry. Those fingers, right _there…_ he couldn’t… Orgasm washed through him with short-lived, burning intensity. 

Honestly taken aback for a moment, Szayel stared in disbelief at his wet fingers, at the semen Uryu shot all over his chest (and very nearly Szayel’s face). Uryu had come…just from that small bit of touching? The scientist glanced up in disbelief, a small smile creeping into his lips.

Tears of embarrassment sprang to Uryu’s eyes. He threw his arm over his face and hid his eyes inside the crook of his elbow. He was panting, still coming down from that orgasm, and so, so ashamed. He knew that was way too fast, ridiculously fast…was it obvious…

Smiling fully now, Szayel ran his palm up Uryu’s abdomen and stomach. “My, my…” he said softly. “You must have been very excited.”

Uryu grumbled something unintelligible.

Shaking his head at how adorable his boy was being, Szayel just chuckled. He wrapped his still-wet hand around Uryu’s member, coaxing it to hardness with only one firm pull.

“Ah…” Uryu moaned, forgetting himself for a second. He slid his arm back over his head to look at what Szayel was doing. 

Sure enough, Uryu was back to a full erection in mere seconds. That…had never happened to him before so quickly after coming. What was going on with his body tonight?

“Hm.” Szayel made a contented sound. “As I thought.” He stroked Uryu a few times, slowly. “You’re still young. I’m sure you have a few more rounds left in you.” 

Staring back helplessly at Szayel’s face, Uryu felt himself relax somewhat. If Szayel wasn’t worried and he could still get it up then…was it alright? Shit, he didn’t know anything about…etiquette at times like this, or even what happened to normal people on their first time. 

“Ah, yes…” Szayel started stroking him with a little more force, wrapping his whole hand around Uryu’s cock. “Has it been a while for you? You seem quite eager…” 

“I…” Uryu strangled out. He felt like his face might explode. 

Szayel marveled at the way Uryu’s cock had regained all of its thickness. It looked as if he had not even had that brief first orgasm. Szayel wanted to wrap his tongue around that cock and tug with all his might, feel its girth for himself…

A sudden thought struck him. “Mmm, Uryu, you’re being so shy…tell me what you’d like me to do, alright? With my hands, my tongue…anything.” 

Szayel grinned as Uryu heaved another tortured sob of arousal at those words. He tightened his fist teasingly, pumping Uryu to get him to be more open.

But still Uryu stayed quiet. Was he really this timid? Szayel supposed he could believe it. In truth he bubbled with glee to think that Uryu was so embarrassed by sexual talk…like a little virgin. 

Wait. Szayel tilted his head to the side in thought. Was it possible…? 

“Uryu,” he said softly, letting go of the younger man’s cock to rest his palms on Uryu’s stomach. “Is this the first time anyone’s ever touched you?”

Biting his lip, Uryu jerked his head to the side, refusing to make eye contact with Szayel. He could not bring himself to say anything.

The silence was telling enough though. Fireworks burst to life in Szayel’s mind at that realization, making him feel and think several hundred things at once. (How could it be? But that was an amazing discovery! Why had Uryu never…? But then with Szayel he had wanted to. Oh the things they would do together…)

The things Szayel could show him.

Crying out in happiness, Szayel laid down on top of Uryu. Pounced on him, more like. Uryu huffed as some wind got knocked out of his lungs in the process. But Szayel was already running his hands all over every inch of skin he could reach on Uryu’s body, in a mad frenzy of lust and adoration. 

He ran through several thick curse-laden exclamations—in several languages—as he kissed Uryu’s face and neck. 

“Ah, my sweet, sweet thing…you beautiful, innocent man…my little angel… _mi pequeño ángelito_ …”

The kissing felt good, of course. Beyond that, Uryu felt like Szayel was legitimately not making fun of him, nor was he at all turned off—if the sudden stiffness pressed against Uryu’s stomach was any indication. Yes, perhaps Granz was fetishizing his virginity a bit…but that was to be expected. And Uryu was alright with it. 

Smiling uncertainly (and still more than a little embarrassed), Uryu wrapped his arms around Szayel. He twisted his head to catch Szayel’s lips in a kiss, letting them kiss each other fully for the first time that night. Uryu kissed Szayel with everything he had this time, not holding anything back. Szayel accepted all of it, returning his passion in equal measure. Uryu buried his hands in Szayel’s hair (learning from what his superior had done the last time) and deepened their kiss considerably, if that were even possible. 

Pulling away finally, after their lips had slowed of their own accord, Szayel looked down at Uryu with love in his eyes. Seeing that emotion there, plain as day, Uryu felt like he was glowing. He could not hold back a genuine, full smile of his own—all embarrassment long forgotten.

“Uryu…” Szayel purred. “You are so lovely…do you know that?”

Uryu had never heard such pleased words coming from his superior’s mouth before. It made him feel special, like the most loved, important person in the world. He knew that was vain, but…the young man honestly thought he might die from happiness if he was allowed to live with such tender honesty from Szayelaporro. 

“…I…” Uryu choked out, unable to give words to what he was feeling.

Choosing not to let him suffer through any more embarrassment, Szayel cut him off by pulling away completely. 

“Come here,” Szayel said, lying flat on his back and beckoning Uryu closer. “I want to show you something.” 

The younger man blinked a few times when he saw how the _yukata_ Szayel was wearing (his _yukata,_ Uryu realized) fell open in the middle, exposing all of his superior’s bandaged torso, creamy stomach, and unhindered cock. Ah yes, that cock was hard now—it took Uryu’s breath away. He stared at it with wide eyes, wanting more than anything to touch it (he had a sudden vision of burying his face against it, which was surely some form of perversion). 

Szayel saw where Uryu was looking. “You like it?” He gripped his own cock and stroked it a few times, arching his back into the touch exaggeratedly. Of course Szayel would put on a show when he knew he was on display. He moaned and called Uryu over again.

“Mmm, it feels good, Uryu. I’m so turned on right now. Come over here and feel for yourself.” 

Swallowing audibly, Uryu inched over to Szayel and fell upon his superior delicately. He kissed all over Szayel’s chest and stomach, sucking on a nipple here and there almost as an afterthought as he lavished the older man with attention. It felt like such a release—even more of a release than his unbidden orgasm had been—to do this to Szayel, to kiss and touch him how he had wanted for so long. 

And for his part, Szayel writhed happily underneath Uryu’s mouth and hands. That was also amazing, knowing that Szayel liked what he was doing.

“Mmm, you give such gentle kisses, Uryu…” Szayel sighed. “You can be rougher with me, you know, if you want. But I don’t mind it like this either, ah…yes…” 

Deciding Uryu had kissed him enough (for now), Szayel tugged on Uryu’s arms to prompt him to lift himself up on his elbows. Now they were face to face, Uryu hovering over Szayel and trying to keep himself from panting too much.

Slowly, letting Uryu watch everything he was doing, Szayel wrapped his hand around Uryu’s cock again and started stroking. Not hard, just enough to remind Uryu how good it felt to have Szayel’s hands there. The younger man squeezed his eyes closed to keep some composure.

Smirking, Szayel lifted his hips slightly so that his own erection brushed against Uryu’s. He grinned sloppily at the way Uryu sucked in breath, also loving the wet slide of Uryu’s thicker cock against his own dry, untouched member. They rocked against each other for a moment, reveling in sensation. Then, moaning quietly, Szayel wrapped his long hand around both their cocks together and started stroking.

The dual sensation made Uryu cry out, his elbows going weak. He thought he might lose his balance in pleasure and fall on top of Szayel…but he wanted to stay upright so that he could keep thrusting into Szayel’s palm, against that unique-looking cock he was so obsessed with. 

“Mmm, yes…” Szayel murmured. Their thrusting felt good, but in truth he was embellishing a little. He wanted to be the one to voice their pleasure if Uryu was too shy to do so himself. Which was more than fine with Szayel. 

“Ah, do you like that, Uryu?” the scientist asked quietly. “Like this?”

Uryu nodded fervently, not trusting himself to speak. He had found a very good rhythm and angle for his hips that gave him the most access to Szayel’s cock and hand. He struggled to keep himself positioned just so…his pleasure was building again. Slower than last time, but more steadily, like firmly pressing down on the gas pedal in a car. He was being driven to the point of shaking, mind-numbing pleasure. 

“Ah ha…” Uryu cried, unable to keep silent any longer.

“Yes, ah…go ahead, Uryu…take what you need…” Szayel panted, actually getting off himself now to see Uryu loving this so much. 

Feeling his muscles tighten, close to the brink of climax again (a much stronger, slightly frightening one), Uryu buried his face against Szayel’s neck and lost himself. He thrusted as hard and as fast as he could, letting his body tell him what to do. He was there already, he wanted to get there—

And so Uryu came again, almost violently this time. He shook hard and spilled himself all over Szayel’s waiting stomach. It took him quite a while to come down from his high this time, but Szayel held him through it. The older man didn’t stop his hand until he was sure Uryu had had enough. 

Sweaty and spaced out, Uryu lay on top of Szayel. He knew there was a big mess in between them that he had made and he was sorry for that. But more than the mess, Uryu felt wildly ashamed that he had already come twice without Szayel so much as getting close.

Forcing himself to sit up, Uryu regarded Szayel’s still-hard cock with an awkward expression. “You didn’t…?” he asked lamely

Szayel sighed and looked back up at Uryu like he was explaining something to a child. A lovable child. “For me, it will take more than that, I’m afraid.” 

“I see…” Uryu said, glancing to the side. He ran through a list of things in his head he might do—a list that began and ended with just waiting for Szayel to tell him what he wanted.

Wanting to tease just a bit, Szayel watched Uryu struggle for a moment. 

“Um, I can…” Uryu started, hoping Szayel would finish the sentence for him. Did his superior want to be stroked as he had done for Uryu? But surely that was too bold of Uryu to just assume…and he had never thought to give words to some of these actions. How should he describe it…?

Breaking out into a laugh, Szayel sat up and beckoned Uryu to sit behind him. “Here. Now you can show me something.”

Unsure what he knew that he could use in this situation, Uryu did as he was told and sat behind Szayel. He quickly understood where Szayel wanted him, and so he wrapped his arms around his superior’s torso. Now they were laying back to chest, in the same way they had the night before. 

“Good. Now…” Szayel took Uryu’s hands and trailed them down his front, shivering honestly from how good it felt to have those strong, innocent hands on his body. 

He guided Uryu’s hands to his cock. “There, Uryu. You can touch me like this. It should be familiar enough, right? Is this how you touch yourself?” 

The younger man blushed furiously at the implication that he masturbated (which of course he did, but he had never spoken about the act itself other than in the army when it was just assumed by all men what they did with Bazz-B’s pornography). But in truth, yes, holding onto Szayel’s cock from the back like this felt very similar to stroking himself as he normally did…

Uryu even smirked a bit, fighting down his initial embarrassment. Apparently there was something he knew how to do after all. And he would give Szayel his best, of course. 

Slowly, Uryu played with Szayel’s cock with one hand. He fondled him at first, just toying with that long, hard member. Then he wrapped one hand around the base and twisted his fist back and forth. 

Feeling pleasure begin to spark underneath his skin, Szayel moaned into the touch. “Mmm, yes, Uryu, that’s it…good boy…”

Spurred on by the praise (even if it was a little insulting, but they could address that later), Uryu brought his other hand over as well to twist against Szayel’s shaft in the opposite direction. It was Uryu’s most sure way of getting himself off.

At that, Szayel cried out. He sucked in breath through his teeth, forgetting for a moment that he was supposed to be the one in control of this. But Uryu’s hands were, indeed, quite skilled. Acute and…succinct, he believed the word was. He touched Szayel with a swiftness that surprised the older man with pleasure and made him roll his head back against Uryu’s chest.

Out of nowhere, Uryu thumbed the tip of Szayel’s dick. The older man thrashed in his arms, body tightening at the unexpected sensation. Damn, had Uryu gotten more confident in the last few minutes? 

And then, the actual proof that Uryu masturbated and was imitating that with Szayel hit him full force. That was actually very arousing to think about. Uryu with both hands around his substantial cock, biting his lips to keep quiet, flushed red and ashamed at what he was doing but unable to stop…

Ah, fuck, that was hot.

(And fascinating. Really, Szayel should have been taking notes for future reference…)

“Nnn, Uryu…” Szayel moaned. “Yes, that’s it. Do that…show me how you touch yourself…”

Uryu kissed the side of his superior’s face. He could tell by the wonderful expressions Szayel was making that the older man was close.

“I…” Uryu began, licking his lips to steel himself against the words, “…do it like this, Granz-taichou.”

Hearing that, a solid confirmation of his fantasy, made Szayel come. Hard. He clenched and pushed himself back against Uryu’s chest to steady himself on the wonderful presence of Uryu at his side. That, he would always need that, would always want that. Really, he wanted Uryu even closer. 

At the moment of climax, Szayel pictured Uryu holding him at the hips and slipping that thick cock deep inside—

He would have accidentally begged to be taken, but Szayel’s orgasm peaked before he could lose himself completely in the thought. Shit, but still, that was…intense. For just some simple stroking, coupled with thoughts of Uryu in the buff.

Deflated and panting, Szayel leaned back against his assistant to catch his breath. “Very good, Uryu…very, very good…” He managed to say, a smile returning to his lips as he realized the glorious possibility of everything they might do together.

Some day.

Uryu sparkled under the praise. He smiled and said, “Yes, naturally, Granz-taichou.”

Rolling around to kiss Uryu on the cheek, heedless of the slick mess between them, Szayel eyed his assistant with a lustful stare. “It appears we need to shower now. Preferably together, just to make sure we get all the lingering…samples…” 

Uryu snorted a laugh at the word and collapsed against the bed. “Yes, you’re right. But I…think I might need to rest first…”

Szayel blinked in disbelief. Had Uryu really worn himself out? From that? Bewildered, the older man shook his head in defeat.

“My dear, I think we need to work on your stamina.”

Uryu nodded bashfully, but sleepily. “Y-yeah. I’m…sorry…” 

Mentally creating a scheduled plan of activities that would help Uryu increase his sexual stamina, Szayel waved the apology away. “It’s fine. For now. Good things come with time, after all.” 

Hearing the phrase ‘in time’ made Uryu’s heart leap with happiness. In time, meaning, there would be a next time. As in, there was a future litany of times to come and Szayel was looking forward to them. Basically, Szayel wanted to have sex with him again. Not just once, but perhaps many more times…

For the first time in quite a while (possibly ever) Uryu grinned to himself as he fell asleep.

Seeing that dopey expression, Szayel just shrugged and decided he would scrub them both down before he fell asleep alongside his assistant. The thought of sleeping in semen was…unappealing, to say the least. 

Recognizing his own reaction, the scientist noted that indeed, yes. He was slowly returning to his old self. 

______________________________________________________________

After that fateful day passed (and it was a day that passed in a haze of pleasure and unexpected sweetness for both of them), Uryu and Szayel developed a rhythm with each other. More days passed, turning into a full week as time crept up on them. They became…quite comfortable with each other. 

Meaning, they were comfortable showering together, stroking each other to completion, even using their mouths to pleasure one another.

Uryu would not ever forget what it felt like to have Szayel’s wicked tongue on his cock, teasing him from all angles. Nor would he forget what it felt like to be on his knees in front of Szayel for the first time, embarrassed and nervous. Only to have Szayel mutter praise and instructions from beginning to end, so that sucking the older man’s dick actually felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Szayel had that way with him, Uryu realized. He could goad the younger man into doing things when he wanted to. The scientist knew what to say to make Uryu feel confident. And so, suddenly now after all the years they knew each other, Uryu remembered countless times when Szayel praised him in the laboratory back then. All the times he encouraged Uryu to do his best—either with a harsh, acidic tongue that drove Uryu to action out of anger, or with gentle surprisingly effervescent praise when he did the right thing. 

_“Ah, yes! Uryu! Excellent work!”_

_“Wonderfully handled. Now, set the beakers on the burner to 40 degrees Celsius and turn them clockwise when they’re ready…”_

_“Hmm. I see your point. Can you make it happen?”_

Why had Uryu not remembered any of these times before? Had he been…? 

Yes, honestly, Uryu knew why. He had tried for the longest to see Granz as the villain in his story, and so he tried to forget all those moments when Granz actually encouraged him like a good mentor. But that version of events was too simple. Yes, Granz, for all intents and purposes, was a crazy person. A convicted criminal. A narcissist with delusions of grandeur. Yes, all true. But there was a side of him that genuinely appreciated hard work and dedication.

And, Uryu was beginning to realize, that genuinely appreciated _him_. Of all people. 

It felt like relief, if Uryu were to be honest. Finally acknowledging the whole truth of Granz after so long trying to deny him…but then, there was no denying Granz. Not when he was right in front of him, doing exactly what the older man always felt he should be doing.

Such as, buying clothes with money he borrowed from Uryu’s university stipend. Uryu had given the money willingly, telling Granz to buy clothes with it. He just…had not know the sheer variety of things Granz would choose to buy. Long white, stylized traditional men’s wear. Suits from half a century ago that Szayel swore were coming back in style. Western wear in the most bizarre colors…(he even looked like a gangster, why did he have to do that? But that was his indefatigable “style,” so Uryu could hardly question it). 

Szayel also made other demands. Things that drove them apart.

One day, as they stretched out together after a round of sex play, Szayel laid his head on Uryu’s chest and said, “Uryu it really is rather fortuitous that you and I have found each other again.”

Uryu could not help but agree. He squeezed Szayel’s hand in recognition.

“Especially now that my strength has returned.” Szayel looked up at Uryu with wide, shining eyes that told of all his grandiose desires. “We can finally continue the research we started back then.”

In that one moment, Uryu’s happiness burned at the edges. His heart, though very in love with Granz, warped in horror at the thought that his love might want to actually…continue that.

From then on, they fought over this issue many times.

“But what do you need to do, Szayelaporro?” Uryu argued one night, cooking dinner for the both of them. (When exactly had they turned into a married couple? Had this situation gone completely out of control?) 

“I need to continue my study of viruses,” Granz stated for the umpteenth time. “You remember what we were working on then. A chance to defeat life and death, once and for all.”

“But that’s…” Uryu denied him every time. “That’s nonsense, Granz. You can’t defeat life and death and it’s pointless to try.” 

“Pointless?! This is what mankind has been searching for since the dawn of time! How can you deny the godly allure of immortality?” 

So they fought back and forth for some time. Uryu had a problem with Granz’s research proposal for ethical reasons, but obviously, trying to argue with Granz on ethical grounds was like trying to teach fish about the mechanics of flight. Such ideas simply did not come naturally to the older man and Uryu was beginning to realize there was not a way to win in this argument.

What would he do then? Uryu wondered. Would he just let Szayel morally bankrupt them both because of his own delusions? Uryu honestly could not stomach the thought.

As far as Szayel was concerned, everything in life was 76% perfect after he regained his full strength. His need for opium had decreased from a life-consuming obsession to a dim flicker in the back of his mind. All it took to crush the cravings was to remember Uryu’s sweet voice telling him…all kinds of things. The sex he had with Uryu (really, not traditional sex in that sense, but still, rather satisfying). His time spent with his faithful assistant provided more than enough fodder to drown out the need for drug. In fact, being with Uryu satisfied him almost completely.

Almost. He volleyed between 76% and 77% perfection at times, considering how much better things had gotten for him since he first ran into Uryu by chance. 

But…Szayel was not complete unless he was working in a laboratory. His work on the black market (though dull and ultimately pointless) had at least provided him with enough surgical monotony to keep his mind occupied. Now that he was staying at Gekkouban (for how long was he supposed to stay with Uryu? That…was impossible to say, and they did not broach that topic), he was mere meters away from an actual working lab! Able to continue his research after so long!

And yet, Uryu refused to make a copy of his lab key for Granz—which, Granz had broken in last time, so that hardly kept him out for good. Still, the implication was clear. Uryu would not sanction Granz’s work. Nor would he cover for Granz should he be caught working experiments without authorization.

Uryu was against him on that.

It infuriated him that in this one thing—arguably the most important thing of all—Uryu would choose to be disloyal. Granz took to wandering outside of Gekkouban (he was strong enough to do that now) on a whim. In truth, he was staking out the Kurosaki strongholds for a glimpse of Grimmjow, or perhaps Madarame Ikkaku, or maybe even Ichigo himself, the _oyabun_. 

Granz toyed with the idea of rawling back to the Kurosakis on his hands and knees, begging them for the chance to work the black market surgery circuit under their jurisdiction. He actually came close a few times. 

But to do…to go that far…would mean severing his ties with Uryu. Could he do that? Did he want to?

…Tch. Every time he thought too hard about Uryu, Szayel found himself marred by indecision. It was rather infuriating for someone like Granz who was normally so decisive and never questioned his own motivations.

At the end of that long week together, Uryu and Szayel sat on the bed while Uryu inspected the cinch still holding the older man’s ribs together. 

“It looks fine,” Uryu declared. “I think you’re healing nicely.” 

“Mm.” Granz made a noncommittal sound. He had been out again that day, touring Nerima in his newly bought black suit and light pink buttoned-down shirt. 

Uryu knew Granz was going to visit the Kurosaki strongholds, he had confronted him about it in the past and Granz had never lied. Honestly, what else did Uryu expect him to do? Become just a regular person? Enroll in Gekkouban as a student (heaven forbid, a person whose authority in the laboratory must be underneath someone else’s)?

Of course, they both knew that there was no hope of that. It became clearer every day. 

“Are you…going to stay with me for much longer?” Uryu asked suddenly, surprising them both. 

Granz took off his suit jacket and folded it neatly into a tight square. “Not much longer, of course,” he said stiffly. “Only until I find some place better that is more suited to my needs.”

The words would have hurt if Uryu could not read them for what they were. From that answer, Uryu could tell: Szayel honestly did not know.

_______________________________________________________________

By the last week of the semester, Uryu started attending classes again. Of course, he was eternally indebted to Orihime and Tatsuki for everything they gave him. He would have surely failed all his courses if they had not covered for him, given him notes, and turned in assignments when he could not.

The final day of Hachigen’s seminar was the day when they received their final grades and learned who would be in their lab groups the following semester. It was a somewhat relaxed day where people joked around with each other about their partnerships coming up in the near future. But, there was un underlying tension when it came to the grades. All the students had handed in their term papers the week before and now they would find out what Hachigen really thought about their work. 

As soon as Uryu entered the lecture hall that day, he knew it was going to be particularly rough. The air in the classroom was dead silent—no idle chatter, no joking around. It felt colder somehow, like it was the day of the final exam all over again. The students sat upright in their desks, staring intently at notebook or textbook pages, trying to look busy.

Uryu could see why. The department chairman was standing with Hachigen at the front of the room.

The science department was split into the four major sciences: Biology (headed by Hachigen-sensei), chemistry (headed by Ukitake-sensei), geology (headed by Kyoraku-sensei), and physics (headed by Hirako-sensei). They were four well-known professors who commanded respect in their own right. But beyond that, each division head answered to the chairman of the entire science department: Urahara Kisuke. 

Urahara-sensei was a confusing man who dressed in traditional garments and appeared at times unclean and unshaven. But he had a way about him that was innately threatening. He gave most people the chills with his vague explanations of university matters and his story-telling style of lecturing. His class, “Study of the Applications of Sub-atomic Particles,” was the dread of every student in the science department. Uryu, thankfully, had not yet had the unique pleasure of taking it.

Which is why it made no sense for Urahara to be standing there, in the microbiology seminar course for second years. On the last day? Was there something urgent going on? 

Uryu caught Orihime’s eye as he made his way to his seat. She looked at him with wide eyes, smiling apprehensively, and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Tatsuki sat behind her, looking like she was ready for a fight.

Sighing, Uryu told himself to just be thankful he handed in his term paper last week (or, Orihime had). Now he did not need to approach Hachigen’s desk while Urahara was here. He could just sit and wait like everybody else, thank goodness.

As soon as Uryu sidled onto the bench in his assigned spot, he saw people whispering behind their hands as they looked in his direction. That was odd, but he had not been to class in a few weeks so it probably made sense.

Then he looked up at Hachigen and saw the professor doing the same thing—looking at Uryu and whispering something to Urahara. Was that why everyone was looking at him? Hachigen gestured distinctly to Uryu several times, even pointing in the general direction of Uryu’s desk. 

A cold sense of dread settled in Uryu’s stomach. The rest of the class wasn’t even trying to hide their stares anymore. 

When he looked back at his professors, he saw Urahara’s small black eyes and coldly smiling face staring right in his direction.

Hachigen finished whatever he was saying and looked over at Uryu with a serious, somber expression. Urahara nodded, thanked him, and walked away from Hachigen’s desk. Finally, he was leaving—

But instead of going through the back door, Urahara walked into the rows of benches, striding confidently between the students’ seats. 

No, Uryu thought, keeping his eyes down and refusing to feel the burn of attention creeping up the back of his neck. Urahara was not walking over here, that was impossible, was the world so cruel? No, fuck no—

“Ishida Uryu, is it?” 

Sure enough, Urahara had stopped right in front of his desk and addressed him by name. Panic and embarrassment washed over Uryu. He wanted to surrender everything in that moment, excuse himself and crawl back to his dorm room to pack up his things. Head home, concede all dreams of being a scientist—

“That’s you, isn’t it?”

“…Yes, sir.” Uryu answered, but he did not look up from his desk.

“I see. Well, good of you to show up to class for once.” 

Uryu swallowed hard. Yes, now he would be expelled for skipping courses. In front of everyone. Bring the shame….

“But anyway, there’s something we need to talk about. Would you come with me to my office for a bit?”

It was a question, but only as a formality. There was only one answer a student could give. 

Uryu looked up in confusion and was once again startled by his close proximity to Urahara. This close, the man looked actually rather old. Weathered and disaffected. But there was some kind of fire behind his eyes and Uryu could not tell where it came from, or what it wanted. 

Regardless, Uryu had no choice but to accept whatever fate lay ahead of him. He gathered his things and stood up noisily. 

“Yes, sir.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, cliffhanger! Haha ;) 
> 
> Also, side note, Szayel's "research" is a reference to his ultimate move in the canon, "Gabriel." The one where he impregnates someone else with himself...or whatever o_o. But yes! There's his obsession with life and death.
> 
> Stay tuned for the next installment, hopefully soon to come!


	6. Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are still a lot of things left unsaid (and undone) between the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is SUPER long! Sorry about that! I know it's kind of obnoxious. But I couldn't think of a good point to split this into a two part-er, so I just left it as is. Take breaks, if you need to! It's a little heavy in the middle, too. Mea culpa, mea culpa... 
> 
> *In reference to the treatment of people affected by war-related illnesses: After the war ended, there were many people afflicted with various war-related illnesses (such as addiction, mentioned earlier, PTSD, and other typical wartime sicknesses). In addition, there were many people affected by the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. These people are called hibakusha (被爆者). At the time there was a lot of discrimination against these people, partly because of the mistaken belief that radiation sickness and genetic defects from the atomic bomb were actually contagious. Beyond that, people generally did not want to associate with these people for their own reasons. Hibakusha were denied job opportunities and had few marriage proposals. Children who were made orphans during the war were considered the worst of all, doubly untouchable because of the Japanese stigma around orphans and then the war-related stigma.
> 
> Nowadays, the hibakusha have their own lobbying organizations. They are internationally recognized as agents of peace and awareness, recently nominated for a Nobel prize (in August 2015). Check them out here: http://www.ne.jp/asahi/hidankyo/nihon/rn_page/english/index_english/index_english.html 
> 
> kaicho 会長 - chairman

**Chapter Six: Mind**

Uryu cast a departing glance over to Orihime as he trailed Urahara out of the classroom. She was looking at him with wide eyes, obviously fearful, ignoring the rest of the class erupting in loud whispers.

“What does the chairman want with Ishida?” 

“Is he in trouble for not showing up to class?”

“Guess this is the last we see of that glasses guy…” 

Keeping his composure with nothing more than sheer will and pride (Uryu would not let himself fall apart in front of the _whole_ class, even if his hands were shaking of their own accord), Uryu nodded once at her. Whatever happened from here on out (if he were to be expelled), he did not want Orihime to think it was her fault for not trying hard enough. This was all on him. 

Urahara led them through the back door of the classroom through the long corridor of the science building. His office was located on the third floor, in a corner separated from the rest of the professor’s offices. His was, understandably, twice as spacious.

And at least twice as disorganized, Uryu realized, as soon as Urahara brought them inside. He thought Kyoraku-sensei’s office was messy with a bookshelf that was in sore need of refiling, but this… Whole piles of paper laid on the floor, completely unchecked (were they student papers? Uryu had no idea). The shelves on his floor-to-ceiling bookcase were mismatched, showing a variety of folders, books, unmarked binders, and even some traditional calligraphy papers kept in dusty boxes. Under the window he kept a long-leafed succulent plant that was actually drooping, Uryu noticed. How did he manage that? To kill a succulent? They barely needed watering. Then Uryu’s eyes flicked to a jar filled with mysterious clear blue liquid, right next to a watering can. Did he use whatever that blue stuff was to water the plant? Was it some kind of experiment?

The idea of that…actually reminded Uryu of Szayel for a moment. Except that Szayel would never (not ever, in a million years) have allowed this kind of messiness to go on around his desk space. He would have given Uryu the task of organizing should things get even a little out of hand. 

But still, Uryu could not help thinking, as Urahara reached into his desk and pulled out a hand-rolled cigarette. Still, Urahara and Szayel were probably alike in some ways.

Possibly not the best ways.

“Are you going to sit down?” Urahara asked, gesturing with his cigarette to the chair across his desk. 

Uryu adjusted his glasses and hastily took a seat. Urahara ran a hand through his sandy hair, tucking the unlit cigarette behind his ear. He seemed to do it automatically, without thinking. The habit of a long nicotine-sufferer, Uryu correctly deduced. As the chairman ambled into his own chair, Uryu also noticed the cuffs of his sleeve were dirty with something white and powdery. Chalk? Or some kind of…formula? Both were equally likely. 

“So.” Urahara smirked at Uryu, black eyes twinkling mischievously. “Ishida-kun. I don’t think we’ve ever met, but I’ve seen you around campus. Remind me, how long have you been at Gekkouban?"

“This is my second year, sir,” Uryu replied. He fought not to stare down at his hands, but he could not look the chairman in the face. So he stared vaguely at the man’s chest, which for some reason was making him blush…

“Is it?” Urahara sounded like he had already known the answer. “Well, have you taken Ukitake-san’s course on the study of neurological structures and chemical responses?”

“Umm, no.” That class was only for graduate students.

“How about Hachigen’s lecture on the human body’s expression of neuro-biological abnormalities? Or any of his courses on differential diagnoses?” 

“No, sir, those courses are all outside the scope of my concentration,” Uryu said slickly. He was familiar with all the course names from the time he spent studying the reference book of classes Gekkouban had to offer. It had been important when he was deciding on a major. Uryu never made a decision without checking all his options first, of course.

“Really.” Urahara was still smiling, but he looked unconvinced. Cold. “And there’s no way you’ve…sat in on any of these classes? For fun? Or, to get ahead on some of your coursework?”

“No sir.” Uryu would never think of sitting in on lectures without enrolling first! It was disrespectful to the professors. 

Besides, why the hell would he want to?

Urahara blinked slowly. His smiled faded somewhat. “Is that so. Come on, you can tell me if you did, you won’t get in trouble yet.” 

Yet? That wasn’t exactly comforting. But in some ways Uryu wanted to just admit to the lie anyway because of the way Urahara was pressuring him to say yes…

“No, sir, I have not.” Lying was the coward’s way. Uryu adjusted his glasses and sat up straighter.

A few moments passed in silence. Urahara grilled Uryu under the heat of his unwavering face. Then finally, he sighed. 

“Fine, I guess you’re telling the truth.” Shaking his head, Urahara reached into his desk again and pulled out a short stack of papers. He tossed them in front of Uryu accusingly. “So, you definitely wrote this yourself, then?”

Of course Uryu recognized the handwriting staring back up at him. It was his own. _The Effects of Addiction on Brain Chemistry._ His end of term research paper, in which he had used his experiences (…that is to say, _some_ of his experiences) with Szayel as research. 

Seeing the paper here, now, on the chairman’s desk, framed by all the things in the chairman’s office…it felt like the worst kind of accusation. But of what? 

Uryu’s blood ran cold. He cleared his throat, adjusting his glasses yet again. “…Yes, sir. I wrote that.”

The chairman narrowed his eyes. “You did. And…no one helped you? You didn’t get advice from any of the professors here? Or any upperclassmen doing your research for you?”

“No.” Uryu dropped the ‘sir’ under the weight of the accusation. He would have been offended had he not been so terrified. 

“Hm. I see.” Urahara scratched his head and took a deep breath. “Then I take it you have some…personal experience in these kinds of matters, then? You know someone suffering from an addiction?”

“Um…” Uryu choked around his dry throat. Would he be forced to admit to harboring a war criminal in the student dorms? “…I do, sir. Or at least…I did.” 

Technically Szayel was mostly freed from his addiction at this point. Besides, Szayel himself had admitted to being basically out the door anyway. Remembering that now sent a stabbing pain through the middle of Uryu’s chest. What if…he went back to his dorm room after this to find Szayel had already left? His body seized in pain at the thought, even while he told himself it was all for the best…they would probably never see eye to eye on anything besides their own attraction to each other. An attraction that was more like an addiction, really.

Heh, Uryu thought. Maybe he was the one with the problem. He was addicted to Szayel. That sounded so foolish, even in his head, but he supposed it was at least partly true. 

“That does make sense,” Urahara said stalwartly. “But I won’t pry into your affairs. If you had the opportunity to do some fieldwork, even privately, then it stands to reason that you would want to write a paper on addiction. However…” His black eyes cut sharply back to Uryu. “It doesn’t explain how you were able to write _this_ paper.” 

“I’m…sorry? I don’t understand, sir.” His spirit was already mostly broken thinking about his hopeless situation with Szayel, so Uryu just said the truth point blank.

“I mean, how a second year undergraduate student was able to write something like this. The insight that you have here, the practical application of all your research into verifiable methods….it’s uncanny, really.”

At that, Uryu was stunned. He frowned, mouth falling open. So was he…still in trouble? That all sounded like a compliment?

Urahara blinked back at him. “What? You seem surprised.”

“I just…don’t really understand where you’re going with this. With all due respect, sir.” 

“Heh!” A bright flicker of amusement flashed across Urahara’s face. “I see your confusion. Let me backtrack for a moment. Ishida-kun, this is the most insightful student paper I’ve read in years. Bordering on brilliant, I’d say.” 

Uryu was floored. Embarrassment, pride, and apprehension swirled within him.

“It seems like you didn’t know. That’s…great, actually.” Urahara smirked back at him. Uryu sensed a swell of genuine like coming from the chairman. 

The young student had no idea what to do with that so he just blushed hard. 

“But anyway, if all this is true, and it looks like it is…” Urahara flashed him another admiring smile. “Then I have a favor to ask you. There’s…somewhere I’d like to show you. Somewhere I think we can put your talent to good use. But, I have some conditions first.”

Urahara stood up abruptly, forcing Uryu to do the same. He gestured with a sweep of his hand for the student to follow him. So Uryu did, wordlessly, while the chairman led them through the science building and outside to the farthest edges of campus, where the campus met with the community in some outreach programs. 

Uryu had seen these nondescript, relatively unmarked buildings in his passings, but students rarely ever went into them. They were Gekkouban’s community medical centers—a place that no one needed to be curious about. Inside would surely be remnants of that time…people that society would have been more comfortable forgetting entirely.

Being dragged there now by Urahara made Uryu feel strangely guilty. Of course, he knew that these medical centers existed—everyone did. But he had given them a wide berth just like everyone else! And he knew the name the rest of campus gave these centers: The Maggot’s Nest. 

It was a horrible name, to be sure. Uryu had done his best to try and forget it as soon as he heard it. But still, the closer he got to the medical center, the more that name stuck out in his mind. He was filled with a sense of dread and general aversion…

Urahara fired off a list of rules as they walked. The chairman walked at a brisk pace Uryu ironically needed to trot to keep up with. 

“First of all, anyone you meet here is covered by a confidentiality agreement. Don’t go around spreading the names of anyone you may or may not see in the center. Second of all, if you can’t handle this place then let me know as soon as we go in. I don’t want you in there upsetting anyone more than they already are.”

They stopped at the door to one of the centers. Its name, Sarugaki Hospice, was emboldened in small letters across the top of the door. 

“Third, if you have any weapons on you, just give them to me now.” Urahara held out his hand expectantly.

“I…don’t have any, sir.” Did people really carry around weapons on campus? Wasn’t that against the rules?

“Fine. Now, follow me.” Urahara went inside without ceremony. He swiftly took off his shoes, changing into a pair of hospital slippers. Uryu did the same. “Think of this as an opportunity for additional fieldwork, Ishida-kun. I’d be happy to give you some kind of…college credit or something…if you stay any longer than an hour.”

Uryu sighed, but nodded. He could tell Urahara was making up that offer on the spot. Still, there was no way he could refuse the chairman’s request to participate here, no matter how much he might want to. Even if an hour seemed horribly long to him…

They walked through a small corridor that smelled like disinfectant and faintly of cleaning fluids. It was a solidly chemical smell and it took Uryu more than a moment to adjust. They passed closed doors (offices? examination rooms?) on either side, leading to a large, closed set of double doors on the opposite side. Above the double doors was a sign in the same font as the name that read: Otoribashi Treatment Center.

Urahara spared Uryu one last glance before sliding open the doors. Uryu had been…shaky, at best, in terms of confidence when they arrived at the hospice. After he saw what lay inside the treatment center, his stomach bottomed out.

There were about twenty beds lined up against the walls of the treatment space. There was space between each bed, enough for a bedside table and some IV stands. Each bed was occupied by a person—people that Uryu had known existed but had never expected to see up close like this. 

They were all sick. Some were already unconscious, connected to IVs with nurses checking their vitals routinely. The ones who were not unconscious, however, made a great deal of noise where they lay. Some moaned and cried out in stated of semi-consciousness, sweating profusely and begging. All they said was “please,” consistently, but Uryu knew what they were begging for.

He had heard it before.

“The Otoribashi Center is where we house our addicts,” Urahara said, speaking above the din of moans. “Some are brought here by family members staging some kind of intervention. Others are brought here by the authorities, found on the streets or in opium dens that are raided by police. Most of the addicts you see here are addicted to opium, but we have some who’s drug is cocaine and other street drugs that even I do not know the names of.” 

Urahara went and stood by the bedside of a man who was in the throes of what appeared to be very intense withdrawals. The chairman routinely checked his vitals and marked them down on a chart attached to his footboard. 

“Some are repeat patients, meaning they’ve been here before. Others are brought here already near death from a combination of poor health and too much drug intake. We’ve seen…more than our share of deaths in the Otoribashi Center. It seems to me that for some who are so severely addicted, their bodies cannot handle a sudden absence of the drug. And I…” 

Urahara sighed and turned back to Uryu. The weathering in his face showed more than ever. Uryu realized now what the source was: This hospital. It was Urahara’s personal mission, it seemed. His dedicated project.

“Well, I can’t seem to wrap my head around the problem that lies there. If we continue to provide these individuals with access to the drug, they will surely use until their bodies are completely worn. Or else die from malnutrition first. But if we deny them, then their bodies will cease to function because of their sheer dependency on the drug.”

“Have you…” Uryu suggested, walking toward the patient laying next to Urahara. “..tried giving a substitute drug in small amounts? A type of gradual diminishment?” 

“We have tried,” Urahara stated. “But no drug we’ve manufactured seems to be anywhere close enough to the real thing to provide substantial relief. I have been unable to study a sample of real opium at the chemical level…it seems possession of such a substance is illegal even with the best of intentions like I have here. Not that the government would approve of using the kind of program you’re suggesting. They would rather destroy the drugs in entirety, wipe out the rest of the problem in the name of the future generation.” 

Uryu stared at the man on the bed. He was writhing back and forth, his eyes alternatively opening and closing. His lips were cracking from lack of moisture, despite the fact that the rest of his starved body was pouring out sweat in ludicrous amounts. Some of his teeth were gone. His hands were scrambling for purchase on the covers of the bed; they were shaking quite badly.

The black-haired student could tell that this man was one of the far gone patients Urahara had mentioned. Clearly he had been struggling with drug abuse for quite some time.

“But I can’t help feeling…” Urahara continued, a hint of frustration rearing its head in his voice. “That there must be some way to help them. Some way to put these people to good use. There are so many, Ishida-kun. So many addicts out there. Here at the center we only have twenty or so beds, and we’ve started adding more in awkward places around the center, like the basement and the unused offices. Just to house as many patients as we can. And it’s still not enough. More come in every day. With the amount of people we’ve turned away, I feel that we are on the brink of a national crisis that the government refuses to recognize…” 

That was likely the truth, Uryu thought. The people in the Maggot’s Nest were already beyond hope, in the eyes of society. 

“This hospice gets less and less funding from Gekkouban every year. I’ve started pouring some of my own personal funds into the center, just to keep it afloat…” Urahara was speaking in a whisper now. “But don’t go telling anyone that on outside, alright? It could put me in hot water, a conflict of interest some would say…”

Uryu nodded his understanding. He saw the chairman’s situation. And he could not help but agree—strongly, even. Down to the last fiber of his being. Uryu needed only to look around to see the suffering of these patients, how it was all being cast aside in the name of decency and forthrightness. 

It was wrong to let them suffer. Their cries, their pain, the way they reached out with shaking hands to anyone who might respond…they were all Szayel, in a way. 

And Uryu could never turn his back on him. On them.

Reaching out with his own two hands, Uryu clasped the patient’s scrawny, sweaty hands in his own. 

“Get me some cold washcloths.” Uryu felt the patient’s head with the back of his hand. “And some hot water brewed with ginger. It should be freshly rooted. Also, he’s going to need an IV of diluted barbiturates to help him rest.”

The man shakily opened his eyes to stare at Uryu. The young student held his cool hand against the man’s burning face. 

Meanwhile, Urahara called over a group of nurses. He rattled off the list of everything Uryu had just mentioned. The nurses were tripping over themselves to follow the chairman’s directions. They hurried off to retrieve the materials.

Uryu sighed and closed his eyes. A chemical formula that was close enough to the real thing to help the worst addicts wean off their drug? Uryu searched his memory for the formula Szayel had created. Granz, being a former addict himself, would know best of all what was needed to recreate opium as effectively as possible.

Now if only Uryu could remember the formula. Szayel had rattled it off many times when he was in the throes of his withdrawals, begging Uryu to get it for him…

“Y-you…” 

Uryu looked down, startled. The patient was talking to him, eyes clouded over in a haze of need. 

“Do I…know you…?” 

The student felt uncomfortable for a moment. Here he was, holding his hands against this man’s face and yet they were complete strangers. Was he, Uryu, a normal person for wanting to do that? He took his hand away for a moment.

“…Don’t…” the man said weakly. “…Please, keep it there…” 

Uryu realized then that there was a fundamental need for human contact here, underneath the layers of suffering. A need made raw by the pains of addiction and withdrawal. A need he had seen before, firsthand. 

The student quickly put his hand back against the patient’s face. He stroked the man’s forehead with his fingertips, feeling better as the man’s eyes began to close in momentary comfort.

“Just hold on a little longer…” Uryu said slowly. “I’m going to…help you.”

It was hard to make that promise. Especially considering that Uryu barely knew what he was doing. Sure he had written that paper, but…there were suffering people here, including this man, who might now be depending on him. And Uryu was no doctor! 

But still…

Even if he was not a doctor, it would be inhuman to do nothing when faced with this kind of suffering. 

Besides, Uryu suddenly remembered the chemical formula of Szayel’s substitute drug.

“Urahara-sensei,” Uryu called. “I’m going to give you the formula for something my…friend created. It is a workable form of opium and I think it should help your efforts. Please, though, if asked, I would like you to say that you came up with it on your own, to leave my friend out of any implications.” 

“Certainly.” The chairman pulled out a pen and paper from inside his robes. “Go ahead.”

After Uryu gave him the formula, Urahara excused himself from the treatment center to get the chemicals and start making it right away. Before he left, he called one of the nurses over and gave the man explicit instructions.

Meaning, he pointed to Uryu and said, “Do whatever he says.” 

“…Yes, sir, _kaicho-san,_ ” the nurse replied hesitantly. Still, they were in no position to disagree and so the nurses did just that.

As a result, Uryu ran back and forth from patient to patient, checking their temperatures and offering what little bit of comfort he could. He explained to the nurses and other staff everything he knew about addiction, that mostly, addicts going through withdrawal just needed a sense of human companionship to help them get through the worst of everything. (In addition to, of course, the chemical compound Urahara was in the works of creating, int he extreme cases.) 

He also knew that addicts could benefit from being held gently from behind, from soft words whispered in the ear and tender kisses….but he kept these things to himself.

By the time Uryu looked up at the clock hanging on the wall, he realized he had been busy working with the patients for almost five hours. The time had simply flown by because there was so much to do! Uryu was covered in sweat and…some other fluids (things he had promptly washed his hands of, literally). And he was absolutely exhausted.

“Time to go home for the evening, isn’t it?” One of the nurses asked, patting Uryu on the shoulder. 

The student stifled a yawn and looked out over the beds. Most of the patients were resting a little more comfortably now. He nodded in agreement with the nurse, and got his things ready to leave.

That night, when he walked in the door to his dorm, he found Szayel waiting for him with arms crossed, looking sour.

“Where were you, Uryu?” the scientist demanded. His golden eyes looked near frantic. “Look at the damn time! How long were you going to make me wait? It’s well past dinnertime…” 

An exhausted smile played on Uryu’s lips. “Sorry, Granz-taichou,” he answered, moving to lay his weary body down on the bed. “I was busy…it’s been a long day.” 

“For me as well! Who do you think you are, coming in at whatever hour you please? Without even telling me beforehand? What kind of behavior is this, Uryu—”

Uryu did not bring up how this was his dorm room and he could come and go whenever he pleased. He did not mention where he had been all day, what he had been doing. He did not even ask what Szayel had been up to. Instead, he pulled the man on top of him and wrapped him in a tight embrace.

Seeing all those suffering patients had reminded him how well Szayel was doing now. Uryu was so grateful for his former superior’s health. Nothing else mattered in that moment.

Szayel huffed as Uryu refused to let go. His face was unintentionally buried against Uryu’s chest. …Not a terrible position, obviously, but unasked-for!

“Glad you’re here.” 

Uryu muttered the words against the top of Szayel’s head, then promptly fell asleep.

The scientist froze when he heard those words. His first reaction was to demand where the hell else he would be, before he remembered that they had been arguing recently about all that. So, Uryu was actually…glad to have him? Of course he was! He would obviously want Szayel’s company to satisfy him sexually and to give him the kind of companionship only Szayel could give to his beloved assistant, but…

…Still, it was nice to know.

Szayel burrowed closer against Uryu and closed his eyes.

_______________________________________________________________

Uryu went back to the clinic every day. He became a regular among the staff, even though it was obvious he had no medical license. They just treated him like a volunteer. He was not allowed to distribute medicine, but he was allowed to sit by the patients’ sides and comfort them while they waited for the medicine to lull them into an exhausted sleep.

Urahara managed to successfully recreate Szayel’s formula after about a week. He said it would take another month or so to perform adequate testing before he would feel ethically comfortable administering it to any of the patients in the center. Uryu agreed with him, of course, but it hurt to wait that long. 

The worst blow came when Uryu showed up at the treatment center one day to find a bed actually empty for once. At first he thought it was a miracle, that they had managed to move a patient, but then…he realized what had happened. The forlorn look on the rest of the nurses’ faces. The atmosphere in the center.

Damn it all, thought Uryu. How could they go on after failing someone so badly?

Of course, Uryu quickly realized how. There were so many more patients in need of help, there was almost no time to mourn the loss of one. So, they continued treating the others as best they could, just as before. Uryu mourned the lost patient privately, away from the rest of the group. 

The season changed into winter. It became harder and harder to keep the facilities warm enough. Uryu found himself pulling double duty at the center to keep the fireplaces well stocked, wrapping extra blankets around the patients, playing the balancing game of keeping their body temperatures stable.

It was a good thing, Uryu reflected, that he did not go home for the holidays. He was needed at the center. And in the shack, Uryu and Szayel held each other tighter each night, trying to keep themselves warm through the worst of the weather. He was never more grateful of Szayel’s presence in his life. Besides, he hated to think what else Szayel would have done if Uryu had not taken him in. Would he have suffered the cold on the streets, wearing only that coat…?

Uryu shuddered at the thought. He held Szayel tight enough that the scientist actually complained, but Uryu paid him no mind. The winter was a time to be grateful for what you had, for the good things that actually came to pass. 

As it got close to Christmas and New Years, Uryu noticed that there were some wrapped presents piled in a room at the center. They were western-style gifts, with beautiful paper and bows. But Uryu never saw the staff members exchanging with each other and so he wondered who those presents were for. The Otoribashi Center did not have any children patients. Although Uryu had heard of cases of children being born with addiction problems through their mothers…but the center did not have any babies like that, thankfully. Or perhaps, the babies did not survive long enough for treatment. It was a grim thought, and Uryu put the wrapped presents out of his mind.

One day, as the afternoon in the Otoribashi Center began to drag on, Uryu learned another truth about the hospice.

He and Urahara were standing next to a patient—this time, surprisingly, a white, American man—discussing a possible course of treatment. It was not unheard of to have GIs in the center, but this one was surprisingly far along in his deterioration. This American soldier was a prime candidate for Szayel/Urahara’s experimental drug, but it was still going through the vetting process. They discussed for a while what else they should do in the meantime.

Suddenly, a young girl in a hospital gown barged through the double doors. Uryu was shocked to see her—a fragile, elementary school kid with pale skin and a scarf wrapped tightly around her head. She had wide, sad eyes and her limbs looked almost too frail to keep her upright.

The rest of the staff broke out into cries of alarm, hastily putting white surgical masks over their faces and shuffling away. The girl, paying them no mind, ran straight to Urahara.

The chairman got onto his knees in front of her. Uryu had never seen the chairman bow to anyone. Yet here was a young sick, kid and Urahara immediately sunk to the ground, arms out ready to embrace her. 

“Ururu-chan,” Urahara said softly. “What’s got you out of bed?” 

The girl climbed into his arms and said nothing.

“Come back!” Just then, a panting nurse in a full surgical mask and gloves came running into the room. “Ururu, there you are!” 

She took a few moments to catch her breath. “ _Kaicho-san,_ I’m so sorry to bother you here. Ururu was being fussy this morning. She wouldn’t let anyone touch her head wrap…I think she only wants you to do it from now on…” 

Uryu regarded the young girl curiously. He wondered what was wrong with her, then saw a sickening stretch of red crawling up the side of her neck. The marks there were unmistakable: Burn scars. Thick keloid marks that could only be from one thing…

“I see,” Urahara said. He turned to Ururu. “Have you been giving the nurses a hard time?” 

The girl laid her head on Urahara’s shoulder, saying nothing. 

“Alright, let’s go back and I’ll take a look.” The chairman turned around to Uryu. “You should see this, too.”

So, Uryu followed him again. He knew what he was about to see and even after everything he had seen at the clinic, the young student did not know if he was ready. 

As Urahara passed the nurse, Ururu in his arms, the nurse tried to give Urahara a surgical mask. The chairman waved her away, muttering something under his breath about how it wasn’t contagious. Then, he led them to the other side of the center where Uryu had never been. There were more rooms there, at least as big as the Otoribashi Center. Urahara took them to one called Yadomaru Pavilion. 

Inside were children, in beds and on the floor. Playing and laying down. Seemingly sick and seemingly healthy alike. Uryu saw them all and his brain provided the word: _Hibakusha._

A nurse ran up to Uryu and offered him a mask. He did not want to be rude, but he wanted to take it…

“Go ahead. It’s fine.” 

With Urahara’s permission, Uryu hastily put on the mask, trying not to feel ashamed in front of the children. 

Urahara sat the young girl down on a bed that was separated by some curtains. When Uryu followed them, he politely shut the curtains behind him, knowing they were there for a reason.

“This is a friend of mine,” Urahara said to him by way of introduction. “Her name is Ururu. She doesn’t speak, but she has very strong opinions about things. Like the rest of the children in the Yadomaru Pavilion, her parents disappeared in the war. We don’t know how to contact her family, would not even know where to start looking. Now, Ururu, this is my friend Ishida-kun. He’s a doctor who works with me. Why don’t you say hi to him?” 

Ururu stared at him with her sullen eyes for a moment. Then she buried her face into Urahara’s chest, shyly. 

“That’s…alright,” Uryu said softly. He had no idea how to talk to children, but he was inspired to try, looking at this mute, fragile girl. “It’s nice to meet you, Ururu.” 

She tilted her head to regard him from the safety of Urahara’s chest. Uryu thought for a moment that her lips twitched into a tiny, barely-there smile. It made the student smile broadly in return. 

“Let me see your hair, Ururu-chan. Let’s see if it’s grown at all, okay?” 

Uryu respectfully turned his back while the chairman examined her. Through the whole thing, the young girl stayed completely silent. It made Uryu feel…wrong, in a way. Like none of this should ever have happened. Like he should not be allowed to be there, neither should Urahara. Or that…the rest of the world needed to know about Ururu—her, specifically—so that they could understand what she needed from them…

“There we go. All finished. You’re looking lovely, as ever, my dear.” Urahara tucked her into bed and handed her a picture book. “Try to get some rest. I’ll ask the nurses to read you your story, alright?” 

She said nothing still, but she looked beseechingly at Urahara for a few more moments. Then, finally she blinked, letting him off the hook. Uryu sighed at that, not used to withstanding the demanding eyes of a child. 

Together, Uryu and the chairman walked out of Yadomaru Pavilion. Correctly assessing his state of mind, Urahara suggested they go outside for some fresh air. 

It had already turned to evening. The wintry cold sapped all of Uryu’s remaining energy when he walked outside. He crossed his arms over his chest, thinking he should probably go home early. 

Urahara pulled a pack of hand-rolled cigarettes out of his robes. He offered the pack to Uryu and amazingly the student accepted one. He did not smoke, had never smoked before anyway, but his father did. But, what did that matter, anymore? Smiling, Urahara lit the cigarette for him and then idly puffed away on his own. (Uryu was proud he only coughed once on his first drag.)

“Kind of rough, I know,” Urahara said slowly. “But I felt like you should see the rest of the center today. Don’t really know why.” 

“It’s alright, sensei,” Uryu said, moving his tongue awkwardly around the foul taste of the tobacco. “I’m…glad you showed me that. I guess I always knew we offered those kinds of services, but…still.” He didn’t know what else to say.

Urahara nodded. “Yeah. If you’d like to volunteer in the Yadomaru Pavilion as well, feel free. We don’t have as many displaced children as we do addicts, but all the children really need is company. I’m sure they’d love you.” 

The thought that Uryu, in his solemn, practical ways, would appeal to a child made him almost laugh. But still, he supposed he could read a picture book to a kid now and then; what was the harm in that? (Suddenly he realized who the presents were for.) 

“If you don’t mind my asking,” the chairman continued. “What do you see yourself doing as a career, Ishida-kun? What will you do with your degree from Gekkouban?” 

“I…don’t know, really.” Damn, Uryu thought, that sounded so horrible. For a man his age to be so indecisive. 

But it was the truth. These days, Uryu could barely see one day ahead of himself.He used to think that he wanted only to be a chemist, to stay safely behind a microscope the rest of his life, but now…Uryu realized that the only thing he had ever loved about being behind a microscope was being by Szayel’s side while he worked. So where did that leave him?

“Well, if I could convince you to go into medicine…I think you would make an excellent physician.” 

Uryu bristled immediately at the chairman’s comment. But he listened while Urahara continued on.

“In fact, I think we need more doctors like you, Ishida. Someone with good bedside manner and with an eye for practical applications of medicine. It’s a rare find, but you’re genuine enough for me to believe you’ve got it.”

“…Thank you, sir.” What else could he say? 

“And…not to push too hard or anything, but…we need more people working at Sarugaki. Doctors and researchers alike. With what little funding we have, the pay is not good. More people walk out on us every day for better work. We’re desperate for help, if I’m being honest. That said, you will always have a job here at the center should you decide to take it.” 

Uryu held onto his rapidly diminishing cigarette, truly floored by such an offer.

“Anyway!” Urahara stomped on his cigarette to put it out. “That’s my pitch. Best of luck to you, whatever you decide to do. And I’m very grateful for your volunteering with us here.”

Giving him another of those bewildering looks of admiration, Urahara patted him on the shoulder and went back inside. More uncertain than ever, Uryu looked out at the far reaches of the campus.

As he stood in contemplation, it started to snow. 

Uryu instantly thought about Szayel. Was he warm enough in the shack? Was he already starting to get annoyed that Uryu stayed away for so long? Had he made himself dinner (from the small, but steadily growing list of things Uryu had taught him how to cook)? 

The student checked himself in his thoughts. He knew he shouldn’t be fussing over his former superior like that…Granz was a grown man after all. He could take care of himself. But they had fallen in the pattern of Uryu being the one to handle everything in this relationship. While Granz did…what he pleased, really. 

Not that Uryu minded. He was still a little uneasy with the thought of being in a…gay relationship, really. He just knew that if this was a relationship (and fine, it was, he would admit) then he wanted to be the man. Or…something. However that…worked. It made Uryu blush to think about. But really, how was a man supposed to act in a relationship? Would he cook and clean for his woman? Keep them sheltered in ramshackle dormitory lodgings? 

Ah, this line of thinking was useless. Szayel was not a woman and their dynamic was a lot more complicated than that. Uryu did not know much about being gay—if his own meager experience was anything to go on—but he figured it was best to just work with whatever felt right. 

And being with Szayel, while difficult, had never felt wrong. 

So Uryu supposed he was gay. He was attracted to Szayel more than anyone, any man and especially any woman (when was the last time he had been attracted to a woman that was not pictured in pornography? Maybe…never? No, that couldn’t be right. But, a while, anyway). Even if they had never had sex in a real way, yet. Or…whatever.

If he were being honest, Uryu had been wanting real sex more than ever. He dreamed of Szayel writhing beneath him, looking up at him with desire and pleasure in his eyes. He knew what it felt like to be inside Szayel’s mouth, with his own cock between his superior’s lips (fuck, the memory always made him hard as hell as soon as he imagined it). What would it feel like to be inside his…? 

Did Szayel even want that from him? Uryu’s cock, already at half mast from thinking about all this, throbbed and then flagged. No, he was too much of a coward to ask Szayel to submit to being violated like that. That was way too forward. And Szayel would most likely say no. 

Uryu wondered what Szayel was doing at that moment. Uryu had yet to tell him where he spent most of his days, had never explained the clinic. It was too awkward, what with memories of the war hanging so heavily between them. But Uryu thought back to what Urahara said about needing help.

As soon as the thought came to his mind, Uryu’s heart and soul latched onto the idea like a life raft. Szayel was more than qualified! It would be a wonderful use of his superior’s talent as well!

But…could he ever convince Szayel to use his skills for good? Would Szayel even see the point?

Still unsettled, Uryu went home for the day. He imagined laying his line of reasoning out for Szayel piece by piece, like scientific evidence. If Szayel could see the objective benefits then perhaps he would be more amenable to the idea. Certainly he would like being employed in a hospital/research facility again. That was undeniable. 

Uryu walked in the door to their home all ready to argue his position. 

Which was why his heart fell flat when he found that Szayel was still not home. He was out. Doing…whatever he did.

Goddamn him.

_____________________________________________________________

Szayel trekked through the rapidly falling snow with his long white woolen coat wrapped tightly around his body. He had not anticipated snow, or else he would have come home on time. He wondered if Uryu was at home or if he was still out, wherever he spent his hours these days. Something to do with schoolwork, Uryu had assured him, and honestly Szayel believed that was true. Uryu was relatively incapable of lying.

The scientist cursed under his breath as he clomped through piles of snow. These boot were relatively new, and he was not sure if the leather was meant to get wet…now he would have to ask Uryu for more money to buy replacements, which he was not sure the younger man would agree to.

Did it hurt his pride to ask for money? Sure. Did he want to walk around town in rags? Absolutely not. So he did what he needed.

That day had been a relatively interesting one. He had met Grimmjow in person for the first time since that gangster had assaulted him. The blue-haired man actually look relatively relieved that Szayel was out walking about, at first anyway, until he remembered himself and started spewing nonsense about Szayel walking around Kurosaki’s turf. 

After a long debate, he managed to persuade Grimmjow to give him directions to Kurosaki’s place of business: The underground gambling room of a Chinese restaurant. An odd place of business, but relatively unhindered by authorities. Grimmjow told him the passwords he needed to say to get entry, what he should do when he met Kurosaki, and how he should approach asking to join their fold. All in all, Grimmjow had proven to be quite helpful. Surprisingly. 

At this point, Szayel was almost certain he was going to appear before Kurosaki formally and ask for a place in his ranks. He was starting to go insane being kept in Uryu’s dorm room, reading textbook after textbooks and not being able to apply any of the theories in the laboratory. Granted, he knew it was a dangerous move. Kurosaki Ichigo was said to be a reasonable, trustworthy man. But there was a rumor that within Ichigo was an entirely different personality—one that no one wanted to fuck with. It called itself Shiro and it was hell-bent on violence and revenge. 

Overall, not a promising prospect for a leader, Szayel thought. But Grimmjow was loyal to him and really, what other choices did he have? 

Szayel figured he could join Kurosaki’s ranks without necessarily telling Uryu. Not right away, at least. Because he knew it would be rather…inconvenient to have to leave Uryu. Not just because Uryu gave him a place to stay, because with money he could get a better place. No, Uryu also cooked for him and provided the day to day comforts that Szayel had gotten accustomed to.

The scientist tried to ignore the way his heart lurched every time he thought about leaving his precious assistant. These emotions were real, he would admit, but they were in the way! He needed to be less attached to Uryu, more free to do whatever he wished.

Still, the thought of Uryu’s warm arms at the end of this long, cold day made Szayel walk a little faster as he neared their shack. Well, Uryu’s shack, in truth…

Walking into the house, Szayel immediately saw Uryu sitting on their shared bed. His assistant had a distant look in his eyes. He looked—actually, he looked pissed.

Choosing to say nothing, Szayel hurried out of his snow-soaked boots and hung his wool coat near the door to drip dry. He adjusted his glasses and his black buttoned-down shirt, then walked promptly over to the kitchen stove to heat up some tea. He thought about making a snide comment that Uryu did not even have tea ready for him…but perhaps not right now…

“Granz.”

Szayel stopped what he was doing. He froze for a moment, then turned to Uryu with an uninterested expression. He hated when Uryu called him by his last name without any titles. (It’s what everyone used to call his brother when he was still alive, and his brother was a damn idiot…)

Uryu’s pissed off expression did not waver. “Where were you?” 

“Out. I had matters to attend to.” Szayel went back to preparing tea.

“What ‘matters’?” 

“Nothing to concern yourself with.” Szayel knew he was going about this the wrong way; the best way to distract Uryu was with sex. But he was not in the mood to pander to his boy at the moment.

Madder than ever, Uryu stood up. He stomped right over to Szayel, grabbing him by the shoulders and forcing him to turn around. Face to face, Uryu glared at his lover—riled up even further by the way Szayel just looked bored.

“Tell me. Where the hell were you? It’s freezing and snowing, what on earth could you be doing?” 

Fine, if Uryu wanted the truth then Szayel would give it to him. He was only being evasive to spare Uryu’s feelings, but if his boy wanted to get demanding then he would stop being so considerate. 

Szayel tilted his head to one side and smiled. “I was meeting with Grimmjow about the best way to meet with Kurosaki. I’m planning on meeting with the _oyabun_ next week. Or, as soon as it stops snowing.” 

“Grimmjow…?” Uryu’s mind worked hard to place the name. Then he remembered. “You mean the gangster that broke two of your ribs?”

“He has since…made amends with me,” Szayel said, exaggerating the truth.

“Amends? Is he going to pay for the medical expenses you had when you were immobilized and in agony on my bed for weeks?” 

For some reason, those words cut to Szayel’s core. He felt ashamed—both with himself for being so weak that time (a shame he tried hard to forget, to little avail) and with himself for going back to the man who had hurt him so badly. It was nothing short of inexcusable to ask help from someone who has treated you so poorly, but…Szayel felt completely out of options…he did not know what else to do, where else to go with his life.

The scientist abruptly turned his back on Uryu, not wishing to show his unconfident face. 

Uryu read the signs of distress on his lover. He felt suddenly bad for bringing up the past…he knew Szayel was sensitive about his own weaknesses. 

The student sighed and took a few steps back. “Of course, you know…you don’t owe me any medical expenses. I was just…making a point.” 

Szayel said nothing, just stood there with his back to Uryu, holding onto the edges of the kitchen counter. Uryu could not see this, but Szayel’s knuckles turned white with the sheer force of his shame and anger as he gripped tighter and tighter. 

“What would you have me do instead?” 

The words were so soft, Uryu’s heart clenched as he heard them. Szayel never spoke that softly. For him, it was a sign of severe agitation and anger. Uryu braced himself for the fight that was surely inevitable now. 

“You are so talented, Granz-taichou,” Uryu said swiftly. Was this the right time to bring up Urahara’s offer? “There are so many ways you could use your skills…” 

“Is that so?” Szayel turned around. His golden eyes were wild with fury and he was speaking in a normal tone now. Signs his agitation was growing. “Who would consider working with me, marked as I am? A convict and a monster? Have you forgotten this?”

Szayel pulled his shirt aside to show the tattoo on his shoulder. In truth, Uryu had forgotten it. 

“That’s what this mark means, Uryu! It is a means of branding me from ever again engaging in the normal sphere of society! That door is closed to me now! How could you possibly understand…” Seething with rage, Szayel said the next part between clenched teeth. “…when you managed to avoid such a fate?” 

Uryu felt as if Szayel had just slapped him in the face. They hardly ever spoke about the differences in their fates, how Uryu had gotten off relatively easily. Alright, basically scot-free. It was a point of guilt for Uryu, in some ways, considering they worked side by side. But Granz had been his commanding officer. He had been the one making all the decisions, all the things that could be considered technical “war crimes”…

Wounded, Uryu rallied on his lover. “All I’ve ever asked you to do is to forget about the damn research, Szayelaporro. What was i all for? The world hasn’t changed, the research didn’t help you at all! Not when you were sitting in a cell, not when you were addicted to drugs for five years! But still, you refuse to let it go! You make these demands like you need to be in a lab, you need to be working…but why? Fucking…why?!” 

Uryu felt himself beginning to lose composure, which he hated to do. But now all the resentment between them had started to boil over, there was no going back.

“You haven’t ever helped anyone. You’ve never used what you can do for anyone’s benefit. Just to fuel your own fucking ego. So…” Uryu panted with rage as he continued. “Ask yourself why you’re the one with a mark.” 

Szayel’s eyes widened in disbelief. That Uryu would…say such a thing to him…how could he? This layer of anger within the younger man, it made him so insufferable at times!

Besides, what right did Uryu have to be so accusing? 

“And what gives you the right to be my judge and jury?” Szayel’s face darkened in rage. “You hid yourself away after the war and then went into school with no intention of ever actually accomplishing anything. Who are you to stand before me and make these accusations? Hm? Who are you, you fucking bastard, to drag me into your life, make me dependent on you…? Just so you can…examine me, like my motives are yours to decide…” 

Szayel surprised them both when his face started to turn red and tears sprang to his eyes. 

“You…imbecilic piece of shit…how could you do this to me…?”

Was he crying out of anger? Out of frustration? Out of helplessness and betrayal? Out of what?

Overcome with everything, Szayel screamed in rage and stomped over to their shared bed. He could no longer stay here if Uryu was going to treat him like this, if his wounds were going to be on display for Uryu to…peruse and use as he liked… The scientist sat on the bed and began gathering his things, his meager selection of clothes. He had no suitcase…and this damn snow was hindering him…was the whole world now conspiring against him as well?

Uryu had never quite seen his superior so upset. It awoke a lot of feelings in the younger man. He hated seeing him like this…so desperate and furious…in tears, that the scientist wiped away agitatedly with the back of his hand…

Fuck, Uryu thought. He had made a mistake somewhere. He wanted Szayel on his side, not trying to leave him. Perhaps he was terrible at relationships, Uryu really could not know, since this was his first. Or perhaps him and Szayel were simply too volatile with each other to continue on…

But seeing his lover like that, scrambling through his small pile of possessions, cursing under his breath in Spanish…all of Uryu’s anger burned itself out like an imploding star.

Uryu rushed over to Szayel and grabbed his hands to stop his ceaseless motion. “Stop.”

Szayel tried to push him away. 

“Stop.” Uryu grabbed his hands again and this time pulled him into an awkward hug. Szayel tried to struggle against him at first, then he realized that these arms—bizarrely strong as they were—had been all he wanted since he walked in the door. These arms were Szayel’s true home, the thing he was loathe to leave no matter what they said to each other. 

So he let Uryu hold him. Slowly, bit by bit, Szayel dissolved into the touch. He rested his forehead on Uryu’s shoulder and waited for his surge of emotions to dwindle. As expected, Uryu held him until he calmed down. 

“If I hurt you, I’m sorry,” Uryu said softly, kissing the side of Szayel’s face.

“Yes, you hurt me, you bastard…” Szayel spat out. But he took off his glasses to press his face into Uryu’s neck all the same. 

“I’m sorry. I just…don’t want you to go back to caring only about your research. But I…know you feel like that’s who you are.” 

Szayel said nothing. Damn, being cradled in Uryu’s arms like this was probably the most wonderful feeling in the world. Why did it feel so damn good? To know that Uryu was here for him, even if they disagreed…having that… Szayel gripped Uryu’s shirt tightly, fisting the fabric as he was wont to do.

“It’s just…that’s doesn’t have to be who you are, you know?” Uryu wasn’t sure if he was saying the right thing, but he needed to get this out. “You have me, at least. And if you can care about me, then…you can care about other things, too.” 

“I…care about you.” Now here he was, telling the fucking truth, of all the things to say…

“I know you do.” Uryu leaned back and kissed Szayel’s forehead. “So you…don’t have to be stuck doing what you did before. It doesn’t have to be like that. I…don’t want it to be.” 

“What do you want from me, then?” Szayel asked weakly. 

The younger man looked back at him seriously. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“I…won’t.” So fine, if he was going to concede his pride, then he might as well concede everything else along with it. But only because Uryu had him in his arms like this and now Szayel was in an agreeable mood…

Uryu held Szayel’s hand, then raised it to his face to lay kisses on each of Szayel’s fingers. “Stay with me,” he said in between kisses. “We’ll figure something out. And please, don’t go back to Grimmjow.”

The older man was silent for a while. Then he finally gave a quiet, one-word answer.

“…Fine.” 

Really, if it meant that much to Uryu…and if his boy could promise to find something equally as entertaining and worthwhile for him to do, then…he supposed he could be open to something else. 

“…For now.” 

There was a deadline on this offer, of course. Szayel could not simply wait around forever while Uryu tried to find him suitable work.

Uryu took the opportunity nonetheless. “Fair enough.”

Then, Uryu grabbed his chin and started kissing him. Szayel was surprised by the forcefulness of that action, but he was not going to complain. In truth, he loved when Uryu took a commanding attitude with him…when he showed the strength in those lithe muscles and took what he wanted from Szayel…

In no time, the older man was moaning into the kisses, wrapping his arms around Uryu’s neck. He made his body loose, fitting himself up against Uryu and letting the younger man do whatever he pleased. The thought made him very excited, and he was already getting quite hard…

Uryu kissed him and kissed him, making it almost difficult to breathe. Szayel reveled in all the attention, but he was starting to get bored. He wanted Uryu’s mouth on other places of his body, preferably all over and preferably now!

So, the scientist pushed Uryu back a bit to stop his ceaseless kissing. “Do you plan to kiss me until we both starve to death?” he asked facetiously. 

Uryu blushed. He ran his hands down Szayel’s body, making the older man sigh in relief. Once Szayel was successfully pinned underneath him, Uryu mouthed his neck and started undoing the buttons on his shirt with practiced skill. Szayel hummed in encouragement, wriggling out of his shirt to work on getting Uryu undressed as well. 

Once they were both shirtless, Uryu opened his mouth to say something. But then, losing his nerve, he dropped to Szayel’s chest and began kissing him there, everywhere he could. The scientist was confused, but content to let Uryu continue what he was doing, gasping in surprise when he felt Uryu’s tongue reach out to explore the sensitive skin in the hollow of his throat…that was new…

Szayel wrapped one leg around Uryu’s waist, slotting his hardness against the younger man’s own bulging erection. The contact was enough to make them both sigh. And damn, Uryu was so hard already. Szayel could not help rising to meet him, just thinking about how excited his boy got from just a little touching. (Thankfully they were passed the point where he came from a few strokes, but Uryu remained as sensitive and touch-starved as he was the day they first started playing with each other.) 

Suddenly Uryu grabbed Szayel’s hips to stop his grinding. He even let out a groan of frustration at the action, surely it was painful to stop when he was this turned on.

“I want to…” Uryu began. Then he crumpled into another defeated groan, unable to finish.

“You want to…?” Szayel asked amusedly, cupping Uryu’s face in his hands. 

“I…want…tohavesexwithyou.” 

The last part was so garbled that Szayel could barely make sense of it. …Barely, but he still heard it. 

Golden eyes lit up with glee. “What was that? What do you want?” 

Uryu sighed in frustration. How could he say this coherently…? “I…want to have…want to make love to you.” 

“Make love to me?” Szayel’s eyes widened in amusement. “What do you want to do to me? How will you…show your affections?” Szayel kissed his neck teasingly, licking him up and down to make the younger man shiver.

“I…want you enjoy it…when I…” But no, Uryu could not give words to it. So instead, he showed Szayel what he wanted by taking the older man’s legs in both hands and spreading them far apart. 

Szayel gasped audibly at the implication. His cock throbbed in his pants, wishing that Uryu would stop wasting time and just—

Still…better to take his time, make sure this all happened smoothly, since this was probably… “This is your first time, correct?”

Uryu clicked his teeth, even as he started unbuckling Szayel’s pants. “You know it is.” 

Of course he did, but he just wanted to confirm it (and to hear the words out of Uryu’s mouth that turned the scientist on so much). “So then, do you want me to fuck you tonight? So that you can see…how it’s done?”

Uryu shook his head. “No, I want to fuck you.” 

He pulled down Szayel’s skintight briefs so that the man was completely naked beneath him. The sight never failed to take his breath away, even when he was still emotionally exhausted from their fight. Uryu dropped down to bury his face against Szayel’s manhood, inhaling deeply to immerse himself in the scent. Szayel moaned, burying his fingers in Uryu’s soft black hair on instinct. 

“Will you…show me what to do?” 

Looking down at Uryu’s eager, wanting face pressed to his cock, Szayel was more than ready to give his boy whatever he wanted. He nodded in affirmation, smiling a wide, excited grin. 

So, Szayel helped Uryu take off the rest of his clothes. Now that his boy was finally naked, Szayel bent forward to suck lightly on the ridge of Uryu’s cock. It was an extremely sensitive part of his body and it made Uryu’s member fill out completely, unhindered by any embarrassment he may have been feeling. 

“Ah…Szayel…” 

Uryu moaned, unable to tear his eyes away from the sight of Szayel teasing the hell out of his cock with his mouth. The sight was too good, it was making all the pleasure inside himself swell higher and higher until Uryu was worried he would not be able to control himself.

“Szayel, please, I don’t need anymore, just let me…show me…”

Pulling off with a satisfied smirk, Szayel sat up and stared Uryu in the face for a moment. A brief moment of seriousness passed between them. They were going to do this, a thing they had been dancing around for a while. It was exciting, but it also had a lot of implications behind it. Uryu would not be able to say he was a virgin to anyone after this, he would know what it felt like to be inside somebody…

But honestly, he could not hope to be this intimate with anyone but Szayel. He wrapped his arms around his superior’s neck and kissed him. 

Satisfied, Szayel laid on his back and spread his legs, letting Uryu fit in between them. In truth, this whole situation had gotten him more than adequately excited and he did not need anymore foreplay. What he did need was some proper preparation for that…Szayel looked down at Uryu’s ample, dripping cock. He could barely contain his excitement.

Yes, he had been wanting Uryu to fuck him for some time now. But he was hesitant to ask for something his boy might not be amenable to at this early point in his sexual explorations…so this was absolutely perfect for the scientist to get what he wanted. (And he wanted that thick, eager cock buried in his ass until he felt Uryu all the way to his core…) 

“Do you have any proper lubricant?” Szayel asked, tucking some of Uryu’s errant bangs behind one ear. 

“I…might…” Uryu’s mind raced as he thought what could work. Cooking oil, perhaps? Why hadn’t he thought about this beforehand, damn it?

Szayel sighed impatiently. “Fine, just, here.” He sat up and reached underneath the bed for a small, unmarked bottle. Apparently, Szayel had already been storing his own lubricant here. For how long, Uryu had no idea. He pressed the bottle into Uryu’s hand and laid down expectantly. 

“You’ve been…ready for this…” Uryu remarked, opening the bottle slowly, surprised at how loose the liquid was. 

“One of us had to be.”

…That was probably true. Uryu put some lubricant on his fingers, feeling out the foreign substance curiously. 

“You’ll need to…prepare me. Do you understand?” 

Uryu’s face flushed at the thought. His fingers longed to feel Szayel there, where his lover was suggesting. He had been imagining it for so long…

“Do you want me to do it?” Szayel asked, as if this were part of some routine.

“No!” Uryu cried. Then he realized that was a little too eager of a response. “I mean, I…want to feel you, Szayel…” 

Shit, that was even more awkward. But the scientist hardly seemed to mind. He laughed and grabbed hold of Uryu’s hand confidently. Saying nothing else, Szayel guided Uryu’s hand between his legs, to the soft flesh of his ass and in between.

Uryu moaned as he felt his superior’s puckered entrance. Right away he felt this was too personal, too intimate, he shouldn’t be allowed to touch Szayel here! But his fingers moved of their own accord, stroking the soft skin around his lover’s entrance. Those fingers spread lubricant there to create wet, pleasant friction that felt strange and glorious.

Szayel gasped when he felt those cold fingers against him, but soon he was starting to melt into Uryu’s gentle touch. Of course his boy would be gentle, how was that even a surprise? But still, Szayel had never been with a lover quite this sensitive. Uryu was touching him there like he was afraid the older man might break, as if that part of his body were something delicate…Szayel’s heart stuttered in his chest at the thought.

“You’re…going to need to be a bit rougher with me if you want to get this done…” Szayel said. 

He wasn’t even sure why, considering that he loved both parts of his boy equally: The soft, unsure part of him and the rough, angry part. He could have laid there all day while Uryu fondled his ass like a fragile piece of china…if he thought that would accomplish anything, anyway.

Uryu got the picture. Slowly, he pressed inside with the pad of his finger. Szayel hardly felt that touch at first. Uryu was waiting to see an expression of pain or discomfort on his superior’s face, but instead Szayel just stared back up at him with anticipation. He didn’t get a reaction until he had already pushed his finger up to the first knuckle. Then, finally, Szayel shivered in place.

“Does that…are you alright with this?” Uryu asked hesitantly. 

“Yes, it’s fine. Now here, put your finger in all the way and move it back and forth for a bit. I’ll tell you if it hurts.” 

Uryu did just that. He marveled at how warm and tight it felt inside Szayel. Such a hidden bit of humanity—Uryu was instantly addicted to the feel. His cock twitched heavily against the side of his leg as he thought about how it would feel to be buried in there…shit, if he could even last long enough to get to that point.

Szayel settled against the bed, happily feeling Uryu explore his insides. From the look on the younger man’s face, he was very ready to get to the next step. Of course he would be and Szayel liked the control of being able to decide when Uryu would get to be inside of him. He wanted to wait, to give Uryu a little more time in the limbo of anticipation and self-control. That was fun for the older man.

Eventually, Szayel told him to put another finger in and then another. He showed Uryu how to actually stretch him, taking care not to move too quickly—which Uryu took quite literally and spent a good ten minutes studiously scissoring his fingers inside Szayel at a snail’s pace. Of course Szayel enjoyed the idea of the attention, of Uryu worrying about his needs, more than he did the actual feel of it.

“Alright, I think that’s good enough…” Szayel said when he was starting to feel bad for Uryu. “Are you ready?”

“Wait, I thought there was…” Uryu’s brow furrowed. “Shouldn’t there be pleasure for you?” 

Szayel was surprised to hear that. Had Uryu done some research on the after all? Had he looked into a textbook on male anatomy and tried to figure out what to do…? The thought made Szayel want to burst out laughing, but it was also so dear to him that he sorely wished it were true. 

“Yes, I’m sure there will be. Let’s just get you in here, shall we?"

Feeling inadequate already, Uryu pulled his fingers out and got into position. On Szayel’s command, he pushed the older man’s knees up and rested his ankles on his own shoulders. This position already felt like more than enough intimacy for Uryu to handle. Szayel laying luxuriously on his back while he waited for Uryu’s cock to breach him.

“You sure you’re alright with this?” Uryu asked. The last thing he wanted was to hurt his superior, or to debase him in some way.

Szayel sighed, his eyes going soft. “Yes, I’m positive. Now…” 

Without anymore warning, Szayel grabbed hold of Uryu’s cock at the base. Grinning excitedly at the younger man, he slowly guided Uryu to his entrance, watching with bated breath every fleeting expression on Uryu’s face. He wanted to see the moment of realization when Uryu finally got to be inside of him—

Licking his lips, Szayel pulled Uryu’s cock into himself. He gritted his teeth as the thick head of that member pushed past his ring of muscle, but then he felt suspended in happiness as he saw the look on Uryu’s face. 

Sheer euphoria. 

Uryu struggled to keep hold of himself. But, no, damn it all, he could feel Szayel’s body pressing around his cock from all angles, pulling him deeper inside. Finally Szayel’s hand fell away and the older man pushed himself down, effectively spearing himself the rest of the way onto Uryu’s cock. 

They were connected like lovers and Uryu could not even keep his eyes open to see it happen. The pleasure was too intense! He needed to keep absolutely still right now so that he did come…then the thought occurred to him, was Szayel feeling nearly as good as he was?

Squinting through the pleasant burning sensation taking over his body, Uryu looked down at Szayel. Sure enough, Szayel’s entire attention was raptly focused on Uryu’s face. He had never been the subject of such an intense stare and Uryu, though self-conscious, was also enthralled. He wanted Szayel to look at him, to watch as he fucked him, until Szayel himself got caught up in the pleasure and lost himself.

“…Alright?” Uryu asked, unable to voice any more concern than that.

“Yes. Now move.” 

Holding onto Szayel’s ankles, Uryu slid his body forward, forcing himself deep inside his superior until the older man actually shuddered. No way he could stay stoic when Uryu was this far in…and for his part, the younger man wanted to be so much deeper. He wanted to push in until Szayel’s body yielded to him completely. 

“Ah…” Szayel sighed. Finally, there was some pain. Uryu’s dick was pressing into regions that had not been touched by anyone else in quite some time, so far inside of him. It was startling in a way…Szayel felt himself opening up further to let Uryu in. 

Then Uryu slid backwards, giving himself space to thrust up into Szayel from that angle. Such rapid motion—and just as deep as before—after being delicately prodded and stroked for such a long time…! The older man cried out in unexpected pleasure.

“Does that hurt?” Uryu asked, ready to pull out on a moment’s notice should he go too far. 

Szayel looked up at him, his vision going white around the edges. He felt so full of Uryu, too full to speak, so he just shook his head. He wrapped his hands around Uryu’s waist and pushed the boy forward, encouraging him to keep going.

And so, Uryu started fucking him. Just like that, slow and deep. Szayel kept his composure for a while, letting himself stay alert as he felt the hard satisfaction of having Uryu do this to him. He wanted to take notes on Uryu’s face, he wanted to remember all the little details…but each thrust sent Szayel’s body spiraling into a place of ecstasy where his limbs started to go numb. He shook a bit, scrambling for purchase around Uryu’s waist, the smile going out of his face. 

Had he…miscalculated? Szayel’s mind was beginning to short out the more Uryu fucked him. He wasn’t able to stay in control of this situation like he thought he would be. Just the feel of Uryu, who he knew was using every ounce of restraint he had…the feel of his boy fucking him so thoroughly, so attentively, so…diligently! Damn, how he hated to use the word but it was so appropriate here. Uryu was dismantling him more and more every second, until Szayel was a moaning mess beneath his boy’s unrivaled strength—

“Ah!” There, that was a spot that made all other thoughts go completely silent.

“Is it…still okay…?” Uryu struggled to ask, not sure if he could stop anymore.

“Yes, yes, yes…!” That was it, and Szayel lost his mind to the building tidal wave of satisfaction he felt from being pounded by Uryu’s cock. 

“Just keep, right there, Uryu…fuck me right there, you goddamn beautiful boy…my angel… _mi ángel hermoso…me coge hasta que no puedas más…_!” 

Uryu drove into Szayel with everything he had. He watched as Szayel reached around to his front, stroking himself in time to Uryu’s thrusts. Were they both about to come? Because Uryu knew there was no way he could stop this impending orgasm—

“Szayel, I love you—” 

And he came hard, deep inside his superior. Szayel quickly followed him, screaming and then whimpering with the force of such a thoroughly satisfying sensation. Uryu let his hips stutter forward until he collapsed. They lay together, side by side, further entangling their arms and limbs while they came down from their highs. 

When Uryu came back into himself, he realized what he had said at the moment of climax. He had said words that he was not sure either of them were ready for, and during sex of all things, the worst time to make such a declaration.

“I love you, too.” 

Szayel whispered the words close to Uryu’s ear. But as soon as the younger man processed them, his face lit up in a blush. Was the scientist being serious, or just toying with him…? 

Then quickly Szayel pulled away and closed his eyes to sleep. In that case, Szayel must be telling the truth. He was rarely ever ashamed, but making a declaration like that without rubbing it in Uryu’s face? It was as close to self-conscious as the older man came.

So they were both telling the truth, then. About everything. 

More than enough honesty for one night.

____________________________________________________

The following morning, Uryu was able to sit Szayel down and explain to him that he knew someone who might be willing to offer him a research job. He told Szayel everything about the clinic, about what he had been doing the past few weeks. The scientist listened impassively, head tilted to the side as if he were considering something.

“I’m not asking you to commit to anything right away,” Uryu explained. “Just go with me to talk to him first. You can ask him questions and…anything. Okay?” 

Szayel stared into his tea cup for a few long moments. Then, finally, he gave his answer.

“Alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Those are our heroes! It's Szayel and Uryu so you're guaranteed at least one hissy fit with these two. Here we have several! With some adequate make-up sex and feelings as necessary.
> 
> Next chapter is the wrap up! (Along with a little bonus smut, of course.) Thanks for sticking with this one, everybody! 
> 
> Spanish translation:  
> mi ángel hermoso = my beautiful angel  
> cogerme hasta que no puedo más = fuck me until you can't anymore


	7. Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new start at life. Among other...new things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! The final installment! Ah, these boys, they've pierced my heart <3! Anyway, I hope you like fluff and smut (brain-rotting fluff and horrible, debauched smut), because that's what I've got.
> 
> *Note on medals from the Japanese military: So, the medal that I’m describing here is based off the IJA’s “Sacred Treasure” award. To my understanding, this was given to infantry division generals in the Japanese army during WW2. (As always, please correct me if I’m wrong.) Here’s a link to a page about the Sacred Treasure Award: http://www.imperialjapanmedalsandbadges.com/sacred12.html
> 
> *Note on Szayel’s zanpakuto: Apparently there is some discrepancy about the name of Szayel’s zanpakuto depending on which version of Bleach you read/are familiar with. In the original version and the English subbed anime, his zanpakuto is called Fornicarás, which literally translates to “you will fornicate” from Spanish (again, to my understanding). However in the dubbed version and some of the North American localized manga, they called it La Lujuriosa, which translates to “the lustful.” Not sure why they made this change, I guess censorship maybe? But the Bleach I am familiar with is the subbed version, so I’m going to go with Fornicarás here as a reference. Seems more appropriate as well :)
> 
> aniki 兄貴 - “big brother”, also a less formal way of addressing an older male. Could be considered “big bro” or “bro” depending on the usage.

**Chapter Seven: Soul**

Uryu sat rod-iron still and upright in his chair across from Urahara’s desk. The chairman was not looking at him but Uryu was desperately trying to read the look on his face. 

He could not believe they had made it here. Him and Szayel. Sitting together in front of the chairman of the science department and asking him for a job.

Uryu had already approached Urahara about the subject, of course. It was a somewhat awkward conversation, but not altogether disheartening. In fact, Urahara had brightened immediately when Uryu told him he was keeping a recovering addict in his dorm room.

_“That’s wonderful!” Urahara blurted out._

_Uryu stared at him in shock, then cleared his throat a few times. Eventually, Urahara seemed to realize what an egregious breach of university conduct that whole thing was. But he still seemed to care quite little._

_“I only say this because he is looking for employment, sensei,” Uryu explained. “He has a brilliant mind. He’s a scientist, really, accredited by the San Diego Institute for Research and Development. As well as…other institutes, I’m sure.”_

_Right, what were Szayel’s credentials again?_

_“Hmm. And how exactly do you know this person, Ishida-kun?”_

_“We were…associated during the war. We served in the same unit.”_

_It was as close to the truth as Uryu was willing to go. In all respects._

But still, after that conversation, Urahara assured Uryu he could bring in his “associate” any time and the chairman would give him a fair, unbiased shot at a job.

So Uryu dragged Szayel to the chairman’s office. The two lovers discussed at length what they would say to Urahara about their relationship (roommates and old war friends until circumstances allowed Szayel to get his own place, which of course was far from the truth) and about Szayel’s history. For that, they basically decided to be as vague as possible and let Szayel’s prowess in the laboratories speak for itself once Urahara put him to work.

_“And do you think skirting around the truth has any benefit in these matters, Uryu?” Szayel said, pouting and listing a myriad of reasons why this plan would not work._

_“Well, Urahara-sensei is notorious for cherishing one’s skill above one’s history.” Uryu adjusted his glasses and tried not to bend under Szayel’s stalwart pessimism (ruining plans was something of a hobby for the older man—at least, ruining plans that were not his own)._

_“Hmph.”_

But Szayel agreed and here they were. So far, the pink-haired man had said very little to his own credit or defense, just giving one word answers and refusing to look Urahara in the eye.

Uryu knew why. Szayel was obviously adverse to being judged, in any respect. Being judged with the possibility of getting rejected? It was anathema to the older man. Honestly, Uryu respected him for even coming this far.

That respect and gratitude just made him anxious for this all to work out though…

Urahara tilted his head back and started speaking. “So, how much do you know about the work you will actually be expected to do, Granz-san?”

The scientist in question was looking askance at the drooping succulent next to the window. Of course, Szayel would know next to nothing about Gekkouban’s research projects, but he was not likely to admit that…

“Will I be working in a laboratory?” Granz asked, not taking his eyes off the plant.

Urahara shrugged. “Perhaps. We definitely have need of employees in all aspects of our work, from the research facilities to general maintenance around the hospice centers. So I’ll absolutely be able to offer you a job.”

Uryu winced internally. Normally Szayel would have stormed out by now after hearing such a vague response. For whatever reason, though, the older man stayed put in his chair. Uryu quietly thanked whatever powers that be. 

“However, Ishida-kun tells me you have some accreditation I should consider? From the San Diego Institute?” 

“Mm.” Szayel’s monosyllabic reply.

…Uryu was truly starting to sweat at this point. He longed to jump in and swear on Szayel’s behalf that he would work hard at whatever task he was given…but that would only make matters worse.

“Do you care to elaborate on what you did in San Diego?” Urahara was staring as placidly as ever, but Uryu knew how frustrating Szayel was being. 

“It is a confidential matter.” Szayel continued looking away. 

Shit, Uryu realized Szayel was actually terribly at lying! How could that be? For such a conceited man? But then…did his narcissism actually somehow go full-circle, meaning he was unable to lie about his own accomplishments? 

“I see.” Urahara reached behind his ear for a cigarette. There was none, so he reached into his desk to get out a pack. He offered them, out of politeness, but neither of his two guests moved a muscle.

Smoking in silence, Urahara gestured to his plant. “You’ve ah…been doing quite a bit of staring at my agave plant there. What do you notice?” 

Finally, a chance for them to actually talk science! Surely they could break ground on some of the experiments Urahara obviously did with that mysterious liquid. And then…maybe they could trust each other…or something… Uryu brightened a bit and turned to Szayel expectantly.

Szayel shook his head. “Hmph. You put blue dye in the watering can to see if it would turn the leaves blue. A waste, for a plant that subsists on very little water.” 

…Well, that was the end of that dream. Uryu needed to control himself before his jaw hit the floor. That ‘mysterious’ liquid was just plain water with blue food coloring? Why would Urahara do something so pointless?!

Urahara chuckled. “Yeah, maybe. But I’ll have you know there’s a little girl who thinks agave plant leaves can be blue too, and all kinds of colors. She’s staked quite a claim on this with some other kids in the center. So, I figured we’d do an experiment to see if it was true or not. Only fair.”

Uryu ran through a list of the children he knew in the Yadomaru Pavilion who might believe such a thing. “Agave…specifically?” he asked, truly curious now which child it was.

“That’s right.” Urahara exhaled some smoke into the space around them. “Says her parents used to own a small agave nursery back before the war. That they used to grow all kinds of mystical-looking plants, things a child might make up. Or not.” He took another drag. “Of course, that place was completely destroyed back in the war. It was just outside of Nagasaki, I believe.”

The weight of that statement hung heavily in the atmosphere.

“But no matter,” Urahara said with a shrug. “Seems to be a failed experiment.”

“Not necessarily.” Szayel cut in unexpectedly. “Have you tried simply injecting the dye directly into the leaves? With a syringe?” 

“Won’t that do damage to the leaves?” the chairman asked. There was an air of curiosity in his voice.

Szayel clicked his teeth in frustration. “A syringe is a pinprick. It would hardly be noticeable to the normal human eye.”

There it was: Normal human. Uryu’s heart skipped a beat and he turned to Urahara expecting to see an alarmed face.

But the chairman just continued as if nothing were amiss. “What about any long-term harm to the leaves’ cells? Would they get bogged down by the dye and simply fall off?”

For some reason, Szayel was the one who looked shocked. “That is why you must experiment first to see if it works.” 

Urahara turned serious. He smoked quietly for a moment, then broke out in an unexpected smirk. 

“Heh,” he began. “I guess you’re hoping that I’ve got a lot of plants laying around, huh?” 

“Don’t you?” Szayel was frowning now.

“Who knows.”

After a moment’s pause, Uryu had the distinct feeling he had just been left behind in some kind of meta-conversation. He quickly walked back through everything they said trying to find some hidden meaning, but he could not put the pieces together fast enough. Urahara was already talking again.

“Well,” he said, rubbing out his cigarette butt in a nearby ashtray. “I guess we should stop beating around the bush, then, right?” 

Without waiting, Urahara reached into his desk and pulled out a fist-sized, ornate piece of metal. He threw it down unceremoniously on the desk, showing it to his two guests. Uryu’s brain recognized the metal on sight, with a harsh emotional reaction that made him slightly sick in his gut. 

His mouth fumbled around the word for the thing in front of him. It was a mostly white (greying with age and lack of polish), eight-pointed star centered around one gold, ornate center surrounded by red gems. Each point of the star had four white spikes lined up in a bunch.

Uryu would have recognized it anywhere, even if he somehow missed the engraving in the center that read “12D”. 

_A harsh memory of seeing a similar medal pinned to a man’s chest. The man himself screamed a litany of orders out around him and a group of soldiers like him, orders that were quickly drowned out by impending gunfire—_

“As you can see, I was also quite an active member of the imperial army. Back in the day.” 

Fighting down the sense of sickness and dread in his stomach, Uryu forced himself to look back up at Urahara. 

“Like yourself, right, Granz-san?” 

Szayel was staring at the medal on the desk with a somewhat surprised look. (His eyebrows were raised, anyway.) It seemed neither of them had been expecting something like this, out of the blue. Certainly Uryu had not known about it beforehand.

And this was not just any medal! Something this venerated needed to be given by the Imperial Guard Division themselves, a rare honor back when such a thing was considered covetable—

“I was a general in the army’s twelfth infantry division. Fought there for…oh, about four? Five years? Something like that.” 

As impassive as ever, Urahara picked up his piece of military fame (what would happen if someone displayed that nowadays? Probably nothing, but still, Uryu had not seen one of those since the war) and deposited it back in the desk. Really, a decorated general? Even in the army Urahara had outranked him and Szayel both….

“As you can see,” Urahara continued. “I don’t take this out much. It’s not necessarily something I want people to know about me. But it’s a truth about my past, no changing it. No matter how much I sometimes wish that damn medal would just disappear on its own…”

“Urahara…sensei…” Uryu said slowly, trying to retain all of this information. 

A shadow passed over the chairman’s eyes. Only for a moment, then it was gone. His lackadaisical smirk returned as indifferent as ever. 

“So,” he said, nodding in Szayel’s direction. “I showed you mine, will you show me yours?”

“I…beg your pardon?” The pink-haired scientist smoothed the creases in his long coat, clearly scandalized. 

Urahara smirked. “You’re a war criminal, right? Don’t you have a…tattoo or something? Somewhere on you?” 

Just like that! All the air left Uryu lungs like it was sucked out by a vacuum. Seriously? How had Urahara guessed the truth?

Fuming, Szayel turned to Uryu, red in the face. “You—”

“I didn’t!” Uryu scrambled to answer the unjust accusation. “I didn’t say anything—”

“It’s alright, it’s alright.” Urahara spoke over the confusion. “Ishida is telling the truth, he didn’t give anything away. It’s fortunate—for me—that I know his father.” 

“My…!” Uryu almost jolted to his feet. How the hell did the chairman know his own damn father?! The same man Uryu had been avoiding for nigh on a year at this point?

“Yup, Ryuuken and I go way back.” Urahara waved his hand, as if that wasn’t important (when it actually was, to Uryu!). “I gave him a call a few days ago, to check up on your story. Sorry to be suspicious, it’s not that I didn’t believe you but…you know, addicts have a tendency to be manipulative people so I didn’t know if you were being…coerced. But, Ryuuken said your commanding officer in the army was sentenced to prison by a tribunal. So I did some digging around. Actually, you, Granz-san, wouldn’t be the first officer ever to turn to addiction after the war. Not by a long shot.

“Anyway, I found out everything about your past, Granz-san. Sorry.” Urahara gave him an amiable, apologetic smile. “So, I hoped showing you my medal would put us on some equal ground!” 

Szayel was nothing short of appalled. He huffed for a few moments, then forcibly composed himself—not wanting to put on an overt emotional display in front of such a man as Urahara, who was clearly not someone you should show any weakness to. 

“How…shrewd,” Szayel said eventually, when he had composed himself. “…Quite efficient.” 

To be fair, he was a little impressed.

The chairman smirked again. “Thank you. But seriously…your tattoo. I’ll see it now, if you please.” 

Naturally, Urahara said it in a way that sounded like a request but was really a demand. Szayel wavered for a moment, obviously loathe to give in because he did not enjoy showing people this part of himself. This was not a thing of good memories or pride that he wanted to display…

But then Urahara was a decorated general. Whatever sins Szayel had been accused of, Urahara definitely committed some of his own.

That still said nothing of why Urahara wanted to see this. Some sick fetish probably. Still, no matter. Szayel would not shy away from something like this strictly on principle. What was the point of doing that.

Clicking his teeth in frustration, Szayel roughly pulled his coat and shirt collars aside, exposing his neck to Urahara. Sure enough, his numbers—8-010—showed as clearly as the day he got them. Without waiting for confirmation, Szayel fixed his clothing, murmuring curses under his breath all the while.

“Satisfied?” he spat. 

“Yes, actually.” Urahara nodded his head. “Proves that they actually did tattoo prisoners back then. I didn’t know if that was true or not.”

Szayel sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “It’s true.” 

“Yeah, looks like.” Then, the chairman clapped his hands together eagerly, startling Uryu. “So! From your experience, I’d really like to give you a job in our research lab designing rehab-oriented medications for our patients. To be clear, these are addicts, displaced children, and adults suffering from unknown illnesses.”

Urahara was careful never to use the word _hibakusha_. It was a matter of respect. Still, Uryu was sure Szayel would love to have such a job! And the younger man would be so proud of his lover, to be working towards something like that—

“However,” the chairman continued. “From our conversation earlier, I gather that you’re a man who is quite comfortable…breaking a few eggs, shall we say?…when it comes to experiments.” 

True. Neither of them said anything to dispute it.

“In that case,” Urahara stood up and walked over to his succulent. “I have your first project right here. I guess you already know what it is, but let me explain it to you: I want you to turn this plant’s leaves blue. Without harming the plant in any way, visible or not. If it actually can’t be done then that’s fine, in three weeks I’ll have a look at your research notes anyway. But if this plant—or any other plants like it that I may or may not possess—comes to any harm in that time frame, then I’m afraid you’ll have to look for work elsewhere.” 

Szayel opened his mouth to speak. “How—”

“How is that important, you might ask.” Urahara cut him off again. “Well, maybe it’s not. But I can introduce you to a little girl who will be ecstatic if you can get it done. Sound fair?” 

The pink-haired scientist sputtered for a moment, just at the way he was being spoken to. Then he eyed the plant with contempt. As his golden eyes worked over the thing inch by inch, suddenly the man seemed to light up from within.

This was a challenge.

Finally.

“I expect you’ll give me adequate facilities while I conduct my research?” Szayel asked, smiling behind his hand as he adjusted his glasses.

“Sure, whatever you need. Within reason, of course.” Urahara smiled. “So you’ll take on the project?” 

“Yes. Naturally, I will probably only need a week to come up with conclusive evidence either way…”

Uryu’s chest swelled with happiness and pride. At last, Szayel agreed to something!

The chairman nodded, laughing slightly. “That’s fine. But you’ll have three weeks time at your disposal, nonetheless. If you get it done sooner, then all the better. But remember, above all do no harm. That’s key.” 

Uryu wondered if Szayel would be able to handle that. As Urahara correctly deduced, the older man was not exactly someone who cared about the welfare of his test subjects. But still, when posed like that, as a challenge, Uryu had a feeling Szayel would steadfastly stick to the rules.

He was like that.

While Szayel and Urahara worked out the details of when he could start, Uryu thought about the unique nature of such a project. It would probably be difficult not to hurt a plant—such a delicate thing. Thank goodness it was a succulent, a notably more durable species. Still, that was the importance of the exercise. To be more than capable of doing harm but refraining from doing so nonetheless. That was Urahara’s person in a nutshell. He clearly had some violence underneath the surface, but he spent his time helping society’s degenerates while he stood to gain nothing in return. 

Maybe that was how society itself had changed. Instead of the way it had been during the war, where violence and subjugation ran rampant, it was important now to uphold a minimum standard of conduct. A baseline level of humanity. For no obvious benefit other than principle. To that end, the war itself was a cautionary tale of what could happen when society lost its principles.

This new standard of conduct was right. It was just. Possibly the only thing anyone could agree on at this point. 

Szayel could learn how to operate on that baseline level. If he was motivated enough. 

And Uryu had a feeling he was.

Before they left the chairman’s office that day, the young student turned to Urahara and asked (in a hushed whisper, away from where Szayel could hear), “Did Ryu—…ahem.” He adjusted his glasses and started again. “Did my father…say anything about me?”

Urahara looked surprised to get a question like that. “He did actually. He said I should be tougher on you, make sure you learned how to do things the right way. Though he was kind of vague on what exactly was the ‘right’ way…” 

“Hmm.” Uryu smiled ruefully. “Of course he did. Well, thank you, sensei.” 

After offering up a polite—deeply grateful—bow, Uryu followed out after Szayel. Overall, that meeting had gone as well as anyone could have hoped for! Szayel talked a lot about his thoughts on Urahara and the type of work he would be doing. He seemed rather disgruntled by the whole thing on the surface, but Uryu could tell: Szayel was excited.

Good.

They went back to their room right away. It was a day off, finally. They would make sure to use it…wisely.

_____________________________________________________________

And so, Szayel worked through the week on Urahara’s assignment. Classes were finished for the semester so Uryu spent most of his time at the hospice, volunteering as he normally did. He had become such a regular face in the Otoribashi Center that almost everyone there knew his name and his reputation for being a kind, caring soul. So, Uryu was greeted warmly by nurses and patients alike as soon as he walked into the center.

At home, the young student needed to put up with many of Szayel’s frustrated rants about the nature of his project. Apparently, as Uryu suspected, it was a deceptively difficult assignment.

“I don’t understand it! It doesn’t make any sense! The only cuttings I can use from the succulent are the past-prime branches that are inconsequential to the plant’s life force…so frustrating!”

“What is this nonsense?”

“ _P_ _utang ina_ _,_ is this even possible…?”

“Piece of shit, I won’t lose…”

But Uryu was happy to put up with it all. It felt great seeing his love so animated again, that single-minded focus he had fallen in love with. So, Uryu encouraged him blithely throughout everything. He never actually saw his former superior’s work, but every time the man came home Uryu was sure to slide a number of compliments his way.

“I’m sure you’re making much progress, Granz-taichou.”

“If it can be done, you’ll be the one to find a way.” 

“Urahara-sensei is going to be very impressed by your meticulousness and your drive. I can’t wait to hear him congratulate you…” 

Finally, by the end of second week, Szayel managed to perfect a way to turn the agave plant’s leaves blue. He used a type of fast-acting lotion infused with ink, something that could be rubbed on the outside of the plant’s leaves and create the desired effect. Also, it simultaneously provided essential minerals for nourishment so the plant actually thrived with the substance. 

Szayel proudly showed his results to the chairman, who was true to his word and offered the scientist a job in the research department on the spot. Which Szayel humbly accepted. 

(Perhaps humbly is not the best word.) 

“Well, provided I will have access to all the most well-equipped facilities, with unlimited resources and a competent assistant…then I suppose I can contribute my services.” 

Urahara laughed. “If by ‘unlimited resources’ you mean whatever we can afford then, yeah, sure. You’ve got it.” 

“…Fine.” Szayel sighed like he was compromising but it was difficult for him to hide his glowing passion. A thing rekindled again for the first time in years. 

He may not have realized he was smiling. 

Before Urahara set Szayel to work, he took the pink-haired man with his successfully altered agave plant to the Yadomaru Pavilion. As promised, Urahara introduced Szayel to the little girl who had believed so fervently that it could be done.

The girl in question was a small, wide-eyed girl who also wore a head scarf. Her arms and hands were severally burned to the point where she had limited muscle control in her fingers. (Urahara explained this, but it was clear to see as soon as Szayel laid eyes on her.) 

When the chairman presented the blue agave plant to the girl, her face lit up and her mouth opened into a wide, gasping smiling. 

“Wow….” she said in amazement, beaming at the plant. Then she giggled loudly and turned to the rest of the children. “See! I told you! I wasn’t making it up!”

A small gaggle of fascinated, apprehensive children surrounded them. They eyed the plant curiously, some even touching the leaves and dirt to make sure it wasn't a fake. 

“It’s real,” Urahara assured them. He gestured to Szayel with a gregarious smile. “Granz-san found a way to do it.”

“Whoa,” a little boy remarked, tilting his head all the way up to look at the pink-haired scientist. “You did this, _aniki_?” 

It took Szayel a moment to realize the boy was referring to him. “…Yes.” 

“How?” 

“It’s simple really.” Szayel shrugged. “I designed an emulsion gel out of an alcohol and water compound, capable of penetrating the plant’s cell membranes. Once the gel reached the chlorophyll in the plant’s cells, blue became its dominant visible trait. And the minerals in the emulsion sustained rudimentary plant functions, as well.” 

“You mean…” the boy’s eyes widened in awe. “…You used magic?”

“Hmph.” Szayel smirked smugly and adjusted his glasses. “Basically.” 

An awe-filled murmur broke out amongst the children. They smiled and crowded around Szayel making all kinds of comments about him and about the possibility of using magic. They asked a multitude of questions: Could he make things fly? Could he make medicine taste good? What about thunderstorms, how did lightning happen? Were monsters real?

(That last question came from the youngest child, a boy of about five years old who seemed legitimately concerned with whatever Szayel might answer. He clutched a hospital pillow tightly as he looked at the pink-haired scientist warily.)

Szayel sputtered, unable to answer any one question as they came at him so fast. Deciding to bail him out, Urahara patted him on the shoulder and announced to the children that they needed to be leaving soon. A disappointed clamor rang out. Then Urahara promised they would leave the agave plant in the pavilion so the kids could examine it all they wanted. Some of the children perked up at this.

As they turned to leave, the little girl who had requested a blue agave plant from Urahara cried out, “ _Aniki_ , wait!” 

She ran to her bed and began rummaging underneath the mattress. Scattered around the box spring were a variety of small possessions, tiny flowers and pictures, some crayons. Finally, she pulled out a rumpled piece of origami. 

Running back over to Szayel, she held the origami out to him with two hands. “For you!” she cried. “I made it myself! It’s a frog. I can’t do a crane yet, but…I’ve gotten pretty good at the frog! I want you to have this one, _aniki._ ”

“My, that’s wonderful, Ruri-chan!” Urahara patted her on the head in congratulations. To Szayel he said, “Doing origami is part of Ruri-chan’s rehabilitation.” 

Szayel nodded. In truth, he could not tell at all from the uneven, poorly folded piece of paper art what the animal was supposed to be. But he realized, with her condition, that made quite a bit of sense. Hesitantly, he reached out and accepted the origami. 

“…Thank you,” he said. He held it in his hands, not sure what to do with it. 

Ruri beamed again and waved goodbye. “Next time you come, I’ll have a crane, ok? See you soon!” 

A round of goodbyes started amongst the rest of the children. Waving softly in return, Urahara and Szayel left them and headed back to the science department. Urahara explained that he had some paperwork for the scientist to sign and then he could start work the next day. After saying that, he noticed a contemplative look on the other man’s face, so he left Szayel to his thoughts.

Really, Szayel thought, those children were far too easily impressed. They had such an elementary understanding of the world! How could they grow into adults without knowing the basic workings of their environment? 

Unacceptable. Shaking his head, Szayel began to think of some simple experiments he could show them that they would be able to mimic. He wanted to teach them that scientific inquiries were in fact rather solvable, with the right mindset and materials. So-called ‘magic’ was actually the work of humans with a thirst for knowledge. And of course, the ‘impossible’ was always a lofty but obtainable goal.

Yes. He would go back soon with some easy examples for them to try.

_____________________________________________________________

Most of the students around campus went home for the in between semester breaks. Of course, Uryu stuck by his decision to remain on campus through the holidays. So Gekkouban was, as a result, a little less lively. 

Still, Orihime, Tatsuki, Mizuiro, and Keigo stayed on campus as well. As they had discussed, the group did enjoy a small holiday party together when New Years rolled around (Szayel declined the offer to go and Uryu would hardly force him, it would save them both some embarrassment on that front—considering Szayel was not much of a people person and would surely make some offhand offensive comment). After a few drinks, Tatsuki and Orihime began talking about their plans to go to the gay bar.

Judging by Keigo's and Mizuiro’s reactions, they already knew about Tatsuki’s preferences. Actually, apparently they knew more than Uryu did as they casually teased the two girls about what they might find at De-Lovely.

“What if some super manly girl comes up and tries to steal Orihime, Tatsuki-chan?” Keigo asked, hiccuping around his vodka (provided by Uryu from his stockpile, which he barely used anymore). “What’ll you do then?”

“Please,” Tatsuki waved the threat away, although she was red in the face herself from drinking. “Like anyone would dare come up and try that when she’s on my arm.” 

“Oh, you never know,” Mizuiro shrugged. “There’s plenty of people who might try to seduce her. Orihime is a catch, you know? I mean…” His eyes drifted down to the orange-haired girl’s chest.

“Stop. Right. There.” Tatsuki’s eyes burned with rage. 

“It’s ok, it’s ok!” Surprisingly, Orihime seemed to hold her alcohol the best out of all of them. “If we go, it’s just to look around. Maybe make some friends. But not…for sex! We’ve already…got that covered…” 

Even though she wasn’t drunk, Orihime let that slip. Uryu’s eyes widened at the unashamed proclamation. How lewd, from a girl! Besides that, it seemed Tatsuki and Orihime were indeed lovers. What a notion…

But actually, Uryu was happy for her. They made a good pair. So, he nodded and took another sip from his drink, raising it up to them in congratulations.

“What about you, Ishida-kuuuunn~?” Keigo wrapped his arm around Uryu’s shoulders. “Are you going to go to this Lovey-lovey bar or what?”

“De-lovely, you idiot,” Tatsuki corrected.

Clearing his throat hesitantly, Uryu tried to give some kind of response. “I suppose…I might go…if only to keep Tatsuki and Inoue company.” 

“Oh ho! What does that mean, ehhhh?” 

“Forget it, guys.” Orihime shook her head proudly. “Ishida-kun already has a boyfriend. He’s been taken for a while now. Right, Ishida-kun?” 

Silence fell over the crowd. Uryu’s face burned bright red and he sat frozen on the spot. Tatsuki and Orihime seemed unfazed, but the other boys were staring at him as if he had three heads. 

So, was this how it…worked? Did people just admit they were in some kind of gay relationship? Was that acceptable? These were his closest friends on campus, and they already knew about the two girls, but…still. 

Besides…was Szayel his ‘boyfriend’? Sure, they were in a relationship but ‘boyfriend’ sounded so…girly. Strange. And would Szayel even want to be referred to that way? Would he be offended?

Well, if one thing was for certain, Szayel would be absolutely furious if Uryu cheated on him with anyone else. Possibly murderously so. And the older man would probably be livid if anyone flirted with him, as well. (Szayel was possessive like that, which Uryu had to admit…turned him on, sometimes.) So, better to put it out there that he was taken—regardless of the word (‘boyfriend’) itself.

It was just a word, after all. They would have to use whatever sufficed. 

“…Yes, that’s true, Inoue-san.” There, Uryu managed to say it.

Keigo broke out into a fit of groans. “Ugh…seriously? Come on, one of my best guy friends is gay AND he’s getting laid more than me! That’s so sad…”

“Yeah, that’s really kind of pathetic from your point of view, Asano,” Mizuiro confirmed.

“…You too…Mizuiro…?” It took another round of drinks to make Keigo feel better about himself.

After that, finally admitting the truth to someone other than Orihime, Uryu felt a lot more relaxed. Now he could introduce Szayel without having to explain away his presence, (the one thing he may not have to explain). It felt surprisingly liberating.

If they did go to De-Lovely some day, perhaps Szayel might like to come along.

_________________________________________________________

And so, Uryu and Szayel developed a daily sort of rhythm. Szayel would work in the labs until late while Uryu volunteered, and then the following semester he took up classes again. They worked and studied (Szayel sometimes helped Uryu decipher a particularly difficult lecture, no matter how reluctant Uryu was to ask him—or anyone, really—for help). 

It became normal.

Uryu had no idea what “normal” was anymore, though. Considering everything that had happened to him this year. 

They were fortunate, really. Urahara-sensei arranged to give Szayel a permanent apartment in a complex reserved for residential professors. The chairman knew that Szayel did not exactly have an apartment of his own, and that Uryu would go with no matter what. So he offered the apartment with approval from the board and they were able to move into a relatively nice (much nicer than their original shack) place only a few blocks away from campus. It was sometimes awkward running into the other professors in the complex, but soon, everyone was acquainted with Uryu and Szayel. 

That became normal as well.

After spending the summer together in their new apartment, Uryu had to stop and wonder for a moment how any of this was his life. When was it all going to come shattering down around him? When would Szayel decide to leave him? When would there be another war or some shit that blew everything he treasured to the ground…? 

His own insecurities aside, Szayel only seemed to grow more and more comfortable with their situation. With everything. 

One night, Szayel came home from the labs in a particularly good mood. Uryu had made them dinner, as always, and he eyed his lover suspiciously as the man seemed to flit from room to room. Was he actually humming something under his breath…? 

“You seem…enthusiastic tonight, Granz-taichou,” Uryu said warily as he settled down at his desk for a long night of studying. (No matter how close they got, Uryu always referred to Szayel the same way he had when they first met, using the same honorifics despite the fact that Granz did not hold that title anymore. It was just their way. He only called him by his first name during…well, not where anyone else could hear them, anyway.) “What happened today?”

Szayel was already wearing a comfortable _yukata_ and some loose-fitting pants. He regarded Uryu with a distinct gleam in his eyes. 

“Am I acting any differently?” the older man asked. “Well, I suppose that makes sense…” 

Then he trailed off and went into the bedroom. Uryu shook his head and sighed. This kind of mood was not totally foreign to him: A coquettish Granz who could barely contain his excitement for some reason he wanted you to guess about. Granz had been like this all the years Uryu had known him, usually after successfully finishing an experiment. 

But was Uryu really going to have to put up with it tonight? He had a lot of studying to do…

Choosing to ignore his lover, Uryu turned back to his textbooks. He was able to complete about two pages of problems before Szayel called to him from the bedroom.

“Uryu! I require your presence.” 

The younger man sighed. He combed a hand through his hair and pretended he hadn’t heard. 

A few minutes later. “Uryu! Get in here already.” 

….

Finally Granz emerged from the bedroom, stomped over to his lover, and grabbed him by the shoulders. 

“Hey, you idiot! I’ve been calling you for a long time now!” Szayel was frowning, but his energy was still keyed up to the extreme. His presence around Uryu felt like a tightly wound spring, ready to break loose. 

Uryu looked back at the older man and sighed. “Granz-taichou, I have quite a lot of work to finish…can this wait until the weekend? I’ll have more time then—”

“But don’t you know what today is?” Szayel shouted. (His usual volume when excited.)

“Uh…it’s Wednesday?” Uryu rubbed one eye tiredly. 

“ _Tonto_! What does that have to do with anything?” Szayel threw his hands out to the side in exaggeration. “Today is a special day! Don’t you remember?” 

Uryu searched his memory but came up blank. He adjusted his glasses and looked up at Granz without expression.

Szayel sighed and rolled his eyes more than a few times. He ran through a litany of curses under his breath then finally turned back to Uryu. “What’s wrong with that brain of yours, Uryu? Can’t you remember anything? Today is the day I was finally able to finish my personal project! Ring any bells? Hmm?” 

Putting all the abuse aside for the moment, Uryu did remember Szayel talking briefly about something he was working on that he was very excited about. Still, conversations like that happened about once a day, so this one particular project was not especially memorable in any way, if Szayel had even said anything specific about it.

“Oh. That’s…good, Granz-taichou. So you’ve created a new drug that can help the children in Yadomaru Pavilion with their radiation sickness?”

Szayel clicked his teeth. “No! Well, I mean yes, constantly, but drugs like that are nothing new! I create more every day.” That gleam returned to his eyes. “This is something special. My own _personal_ project. Remember?” 

“Umm…” 

“Just come here.” Wasting no more time, Szayel grabbed Uryu’s wrist and pulled him to his feet. He dragged the younger man behind him into the bedroom.

“Really, Granz, I don’t have time for sex or anything today, I’m really tired…” 

In truth, Uryu had been working himself to the bone recently. In the third year, classes were much more difficult and Uryu had been keeping his nose to the grindstone more than ever just to keep up. Honestly, even if Granz asked him to have sex, he was not sure he could even get it up with how tired he felt…but that was so embarrassing to admit…

But Granz ignored all his complaints and deposited him right at the foot of their bed, leaving Uryu to stare at the set up his lover had created. The younger man’s eyes widened in shock—this was new. 

On the dresser were an assortment of creams, the lube they always used as well as some various lotions Uryu did not recognize. There was also a small square box in the counter Uryu had never seen before. The lights had been mostly dimmed, though, so the details were difficult to make out. Beyond that, there was a pair of…handcuffs dangling on the pillows of their bed. The cuffs were made of leather—not really cuffs but actually thick straps, tied together by a rather long chain between them. The chain was currently looped a few times around their headboard, already in position for someone to be tied down and immobilized—

“Wh-what is all this, Granz-taichou?” Uryu asked, more than a little taken aback. He had never seen those handcuffs before, such a perverted thing to own! Had Granz acquired them in some sex shop…or on the black-market…? Even the thought of that was embarrassing.

“Hmm…I wonder…” Szayel murmured. He came up behind Uryu and wrapped his hands around the younger man’s waist. Then he leaned down and laid soft kisses to Uryu’s face and neck, licking the shell of Uryu’s ear the way he knew his lover liked.

Uryu jolted at the touch, still in somewhat in a state of shock. Szayel’s hands moved around his body with ease, caressing him in just the right way—hard enough to take Uryu’s breath away, but still so gentle…

…It was the way Granz always touched him, and it never failed to make Uryu go weak at the knees.

“S-szayelaporro…” Uryu stuttered, swallowing hard when Szayel reached down and pulled his shirt off. Meanwhile the older man shrugged out of his _yukata_ so that they were both naked to the waist. 

“Mmm, think hard, Uryu…” Szayel led Uryu over to the bed and start unbuckling the younger man’s belt. He moved with such practiced comfort, more evidence of how familiar they were with each other’s bodies, that Uryu could not even try to put up a fight. “What was happening in your life a year ago…?”

Uryu did not have to think hard (thankfully, considering his capability for thought was rapidly disappearing the more Szayel’s hands stroked his bare torso). He had been alone a year ago, right when fall turned to winter as it was doing now. So alone…trying to survive the drudgery of school life while keeping his mind and spirit together.

“I was…” Uryu began. 

Then Szayel pulled down Uryu’s pants along with everything else. Suddenly nude, Uryu trailed off and turned around to kiss Szayel hard. The older man welcomed him, wrapping his arms around his back to continue stroking his boy, and tilting his head to the side to deepen their kiss. Uryu moaned as he felt himself slowly—very, very slowly—begin to harden.

Shit. Of course Szayel would have this effect on him. Uryu could not resist the older man when he was gentle like this, with such lewd goals in mind. 

“You were here at school, but I wasn’t with you,” Szayel finished for him. “How sad.” 

Uryu’s heart did distantly ache when he remembered that. He knew of course that comparatively things had been much worse for Szayel at the time (transient living arrangements, addicted to drugs, working on the blackmarket). It just made Uryu all the more grateful that they were here now. He never wanted to feel so alone again (lost, without purpose) and he didn’t even want to think about Granz living in squalor.

Groaning slightly under the weight of such a feeling, Uryu wrapped his arms tightly around Szayel and pressed his face against the other man’s neck. He wanted to hold on forever…

“Mmm, I’m sure you remember that,” Szayel said quietly, stroking Uryu’s hair comfortingly as he spoke. “Look how far we’ve come, my dear.” 

Uryu nodded silently, slipping his glasses off and putting them on the dresser. Now he could fully press himself against Szayel’s head, inhaling the familiar scent of his hair. Fruity and tangy, the smell of Szayel’s hair was ingrained in Uryu’s body right down to his bones. He could feel his whole body tingling as he inhaled as hard as he could (while trying not to make too much noise and alert Szayel to what he was doing, that would have been shameful…). 

“But…” Szayel’s fingers touched Uryu’s cheek, guiding him to face each other. “…If you remember, today was the day you found me. Exactly one year ago today.” 

“Really?” Actually Uryu was surprised to hear that. He had not been counting the days. Plus, he was surprised Granz had figured out the date himself, considering the Szayel from a year ago certainly had not known what day it was.

“That’s right. You can look at a calendar after this if you want to make sure.” 

Uryu smiled softly. He had not even known this was such an important day, and he would have just let it go by! “You mean, today is our anniv—”

“Hush.” Szayel put one finger against Uryu’s lips to silence him. “No more talking. Get on the bed on your hands and knees, my love. Tonight I’m going to take care of you.”

Uryu’s heart skipped a beat as he realized what Szayel was asking him to do. So Szayel wanted to…tie him up? Somehow, Uryu had imagined that Szayel was the one who wanted to be tied, considering that Szayel was always the uke when they had sex. But no, he put those handcuffs there for Uryu…?

Blinking, the younger man did as he was told. He didn’t have any will to be forceful with Szayel today. For once, actually, he wanted to be the one taken care of.

Ah, that thought! It hurt his pride to think such a thing. Was he acting like a woman, letting Szayel tie him up and do whatever he wanted? Letting Szayel take the lead like this…? 

But even he was, even if all his worst fears about this were true, Uryu honestly could not bring himself to fight it. He stayed still as Szayel locked the handcuffs around his wrists, pulling the leather tightly so that Uryu could feel their pressure even when he let his arms go slack. 

Just as a test, when Szayel was finished tying him up, Uryu pulled against the chain to see if it would hold. Oh yes, that would hold. The chain, though not particularly thick, had been wrapped around the headboard a few times, giving it extra durability. 

Uryu swallowed hard as he realized he was actually naked, on all fours, and tied. He rested his weight on his elbows and knees, settling into a comfortable position. (He hoped he didn’t look too absurd like this…was his ass up in the air in an unacceptable way…?)

“Ah, _querido._ You look so amazing, Uryu. Like a tasty little snack.” Szayel kneeled down onto the bed behind him. Uryu closed his eyes as his body shivered, both in helplessness and at the sudden intense want he had for Szayel to touch him. 

“Will you let me devour you, my love?” Szayel whispered into Uryu’s ear. His body was arched against the younger man’s, creating the slick feeling of skin against skin.

Uryu moaned at the words. “Y-yes…” he said softly. 

With dismay, Uryu realized he was completely hard already. (And he thought that would be difficult? Damn Szayel…always knowing what to do and say…) 

“Mmmm…” Szayel grumbled contentedly. “Such an offer…” He ran his hands up and down Uryu’s sides. “I’m so tempted to just eat you up in one bite. To fuck you hard right now until you can’t remember anything except my name…”

Uryu quivered. Szayel wanted to fuck him? He swallowed hard, trying to force himself to calm down. Why did his dick jump when he heard Szayel’s words?

“But…no.” Szayel pulled away from him and stood up. Uryu’s head darted over this shoulder in shock, trying to see where Szayel was going. “That’s too easy. Besides, I really want to have some fun with you tonight, Uryu. So I think I’ll just…sip you slowly. Make you feel everything I’m doing to you, until you’re begging me to fuck you.” 

“Anh…” Uryu said, gulping in honest fear. This was a darker side to Szayel he had not seen yet in the bedroom. A dominant side, for sure. Also somewhat…frightening? 

Uryu was not scared of Szayel. He was however quite scared of letting Szayel do what he said he would. Could Uryu stand to lose control of his body like that…?

Szayel turned to the dresser and picked up the bottle of lube. He spread a generous amount on his fingers and turned back to Uryu. 

“Hmm, I know we’ve done this before, my love. But not quite like this, right?” he asked.

Uryu nodded. Szayel had put his fingers inside Uryu a few times (never more than one or two fingers at a time) before. During sex, or when Szayel was sucking his dick, just to give him added sensation. 

But yeah, that was…different than this. Right now Uryu was bent over and helpless. 

“Well, I’ve tried to warm this lubricant up as much as possible,” Szayel announced, tracing the outline of Uryu’s crack with the substance. The younger man jumped at the touch all the same. “But don’t worry, I’ll go slow.” 

While Uryu tried to keep his breathing steady, Szayel spread Uryu’s cheeks and stroked his entrance gently. The younger man could help but gasp, feeling himself blush. This was indeed quite womanly…but Szayel’s slick fingers against him were making him want to bend forward more…to give his lover even more access… Szayel rubbed Uryu’s hole and slowly inserted a finger (smiling wickedly the entire time, although Uryu thankfully could not see). Uryu gritted his teeth, unable to stop himself from clenching at the initial pain. 

“Relax, my dear.” Szayel stroked Uryu’s hair with his free hand. “It’s just me. Don’t think about anything, just let me touch you here…” 

Uryu instinctively relaxed, feeling the familiarity of his lover’s fingers in his hair. Right, this was just Szayel. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter what Uryu looked like (no matter how pathetic) because the only one who could see him was Szayel. And this was the man he had tied himself to…his superior, his friend…the one who would go with him from now on, no matter where they went…

Szayel pushed his finger in all the way to his knuckle. Uryu moaned as he felt it, unsure if it felt good or what. He was never particularly amenable to things in his ass…though Szayel had found his sweet spot in the past and utilized it to the full extent. Uryu liked that, he supposed, but he was ambivalent about the feeling of being…explored from the inside like Szayel was doing now. It felt odd, like getting his temperature taken when he was little. 

While Uryu mused, Szayel stuck in a second finger and started stretching his lover. Uryu shifted uncomfortably, reminding himself to relax and just bear it. He was at Szayel’s mercy tonight…and that thought was enough to make him want to take this. Besides, his lover was being very gentle. Uryu could feel himself opening up quite a bit and the pain was almost nonexistent now.

“There,” Szayel said finally, twisting his fingers out of Uryu. “I think that’ll do for now.” 

The older man walked over to the nightstand and picked up the small square box. He was moving outside Uryu’s limited range of sight, even as Uryu craned his neck to see what was going on. Smiling, Szayel opened the box and took something out. He set the empty box aside on the bed. 

The next touch Uryu felt was his lover’s flat palm against his back. He jumped, of course, with how uncertain he was feeling. But then he relaxed, thinking it was silly to be this tense. Szayel rubbed his back reassuringly, lower and lower, until he was rubbing the spot right above Uryu’s ass.

“Easy now,” the older man said softly. “Stay open for me, like a good boy, okay?”

Then Uryu felt something press into his opening. He gasped instinctively, not recognizing the feel of it. This thing was cold and hard, like a small oval…it did not yield as Szayel pushed it further inside him, deeper than ever before. 

“Wh-what is that…?” Uryu asked, a little panicked.

He was unable to clench because Szayel was holding him open. He felt the thing sinking deeper and deeper inside of him, and for some reason Szayel was pulling his own fingers out, just leaving that thing in there…! 

“Mmmm,” Szayel murmured. “That’s my special project. I call it _Fornicarás_ and I’ve been working on it for months now.”

The scientist rubbed the heel of his hand against Uryu’s ass, forcing that thing yet deeper inside of him. Past the point of no return probably. 

“Wh-what does it…do….?” Uryu asked shakily. He could not feel the pill (ah, that was it) anymore.

“Well, it should make you feel good, my love.” Szayel picked up another bottle of lotion from the nightstand. “I’m so excited for you to try it! This will be the first trial round for my _Fornicarás_ and I hope it will be a success…”

“You…hope?” Uryu asked incredulously, glaring at Szayel over his shoulder. Was Szayel using an untested drug on him? How the hell could that be considered safe?! 

“Yes,” Szayel said, rubbing lotion on his hands. He seemed unconcerned. “It should work like a particularly potent aphrodisiac…you’ll know if it’s working.” He chuckled after that and wrapped his slick hands around Uryu’s chest. 

Well and truly panicked now, Uryu struggled against his bonds. “Is it harmful at all? I mean—”

“Hush. It’s not harmful, I made sure of that.” Szayel spread the lotion across Uryu’s torso. Wherever it touched, Uryu felt a slight tingling sensation. From the smell, he could tell this stuff had menthol in it. That explained the feeling. “If my creation doesn’t work then you just won’t feel anything. Which would be a disappointment, but…such it is.” 

Szayel kissed his way down Uryu’s back, rubbing the lotion into the younger man’s nipples. “Of course if you feel anything unpleasant you should let me know right away. In fact, you should be as vocal as possible the whole time so that I know exactly what you’re experiencing. It’ll help my research immensely. And, of course, it’ll make me so hot. Mmm, yes…tell me everything…” 

Uryu sucked in breath as the menthol started to tingle against his nipples. They hardened almost painfully in response. Szayel rubbed his thumbs across them a few times teasingly, clearly getting turned on by the thought of Uryu experiencing his _Fornicarás._

Dear god, what the hell kind of drug had Szayel just put inside him? Uryu let his forehead fall against the bed in defeat. Why did he have to fall in love with this man, this capricious madman…why any of this…? 

“Ah, Uryu…” Szayel kissed the back of Uryu’s neck. He started massaging the muscles in the younger man’s chest, pressing down hard with his fingers until the muscles relaxed. “I want you to make you feel wonderful. You’ve been working too hard lately, with school and with your volunteering. I know. So tonight you can let everything go and just rely totally on me.”

Uryu grumbled. He was starting to feel a little light-headed for some reason…it was getting hard to think.

Szayel kissed his neck again. “You always take such good care of me, and I love it. I love being adored by you. But…never forget that I am here to care for you as well. Just like this…”Szayel pressed lightly against Uryu’s hard cock. “…and whatever you may need.” 

Uryu heard his lover’s words clearly, and he wanted to say thank you. He wanted to tell Szayel that he appreciated the sentiment (while he doubted Szayel’s actually ability to care for another human being, truthfully), and that it meant quite a bit to him…but as soon as Szayel touched his cock, Uryu’s body broke out in a sweat. 

He felt hot, like there was a small flame inside him being stoked higher and higher with every breath. He was sweating profusely. His skin felt slick everywhere. The tingling from the lotion felt like a burning sensation now, making his skin so sensitive that he was actually trembling just from the sweat running down his body. Each bead of sweat felt like a caress…making him want to cry out…

“Ah…” Uryu moaned, his cock somehow filling out even more. How was that even possible? 

“Hmm? What is it?” Szayel turned alert. He sat up straight, settling his hands on Uryu’s shoulders. “What are you feeling, my love?”

“Feels…hot…” Uryu struggled to say. “Sweating…” 

“Mmm, that’s my _Fornicarás._ It’s starting to work. Excellent…” Szayel giggled excitedly and ran his hands up Uryu’s sides.

At that, the younger man threw his head back and moaned at the top of his lungs. Those hands on him…! It felt like Szayel was stroking his cock, somehow, touching him in such an erogenous place… Even though Uryu knew Szayel’s hands were still meandering near his ribs. 

“Just from that?” Szayel whispered darkly.

Uryu nodded furiously. He had no idea what was going on, but he wanted Szayel to do that again. To touch him. His skin was burning up. Every time he stretched his muscles he felt another wave of pleasure crash down around him, like his very blood was an erogenous zone now. He lost all thought and pulled hard against the bonds. 

He wanted to rub himself against Szayel, all over. To feel this man over every surface of his body. He quivered with the want of that, unable to get it while he was tied. The feel of the bedsheets against his skin was a terrible tease. He just needed Szayel’s hands on him so badly…

“What do you need, my love?” Szayel asked, running his fingers through the sweat pooled around Uryu’s lower back. “Tell me.” 

“T-touch me, Szayel…” Uryu moaned. “…Please…” 

Immediately, Szayel wrapped his arms around Uryu and began stroking him anywhere his hands could reach. The younger man shivered, writhing in his arms, trying to shift so that he could get more access to those hands but unable to find the right angle.

It felt amazing, but it was also incredibly frustrating. Szayel touched everywhere but his cock and the heat inside Uryu was only fanning itself further. When he looked down, he saw that his own penis had become so enlarged he barely recognized it—full to bursting! It looked painful, and in some part of his mind Uryu registered the pain, but really he could barely register any kind of sensation there. His dick was actually numb it was so hard. 

What…the hell was this…? That everywhere on his body _except_ for his cock should be so sensitive…? 

All Uryu could do was writhe from side to side underneath Szayel’s hands, watching as his cock gushed pre-cum all over the bed, unable to feel it…

“Tell me more Uryu, how does it feel? You look flush, like you’ve got a fever…” Despite his own arousal, Szayel was being unreasonably calm about the whole thing.

“J-just…look at me, Szayel…look there…” Uryu arched himself against his lover so the older man could peer between his legs and see the state of his cock.

Szayel did just that. “My, my, my, Uryu…I’ve never seen you like this! You’re huge right now…” He wrapped his hand around that dick, amazed also by the sheer volume of pre-cum. “Does it hurt?”

Uryu shook his head. “Can’t feel it…” 

He could see Szayel’s hand around his dick and the lower half of his body started shaking. He knew on some level he was being satisfied, his hips were twitching of their own accord. But the touch itself was bland in comparison to the tantalizing feel of Szayel’s breath against his ear. So Uryu pushed his head against Szayel’s mouth, hoping for some relief. 

“…The hell is this…?” Uryu grumbled, breaking into a shout when Szayel licked his ear. 

“Oh, my dear…” Szayel crooned. “If you can’t feel my hand on your cock, then how ever will I get you off…?” He chuckled, as if he already knew the answer. Then he reached one hand in between them to feel up Uryu’s ass. “Do I have to go back here…?”

As he asked the question, Szayel pressed one finger against Uryu’s slick, still-open entrance. 

All at once, Uryu’s vision went white and his body seized like he was about to have an orgasm. There, that part of his body was so amazingly sensitive right now…he need more!

“Fuck!” Uryu cried, doubling over to present his ass to Szayel. “There!” 

“Mmmm…” On command, Szayel gently eased his finger inside Uryu, just as slowly as before.

Uryu shook his head back and forth. That finger was piercing the core of what he needed. Each slide against his inner walls felt like heaven. Shit, was he about to come from just one finger in his ass and nothing else? 

“You like this?” Szayel asked facetiously, slipping his finger in and out of Uryu. 

The younger man nodded wildly. He wanted to speak, but he did not know what to say or if it would even come out coherent…he was so close to climax…

“But normally you’re so indifferent,” Szayel remarked, chuckling. “Have you changed your mind?” 

Uryu’s body trembled. Szayel’s other hand was still on his hip, keeping hm steady so that no matter how much he shook, Szayel still had a good angle to continue fucking him. 

“Y-yes…!” Uryu cried, unsure what he was answering. 

Grinning arrogantly, Szayel curled his finger just inside Uryu. He hit nothing except the shallow parts of his lover’s entrance—but Uryu came nonetheless with a broken shout. Moaning, feeling as if he had just been pierced by something heavenly, Uryu rocked his hips and emptied himself onto the sheets.

Slowly regaining his breath, Uryu glanced over his shoulder with a bewildered expression. He really had just come, from only that…

Ecstatic, Szayel bent forward and kissed Uryu on the lips. When he leaned back, he was wearing the most smug, happy face Uryu had ever seen on him.

“That’s what my _Fornicarás_ is designed to do.” He tossed his head to the side and pressed another finger inside Uryu. “It makes your body most sensitive around the area of initial contact, wherever the pill is dissolved. In this case, your sweet, sweet ass.” 

Uryu moaned again. The burning ache inside him had not lessened one bit after that orgasm. Now that Szayel’s fingers were stretching deeper into his hole, it was back with a vengeance. Indeed, Uryu looked down and saw his cock was just as large as before. 

“Unh…” the younger man groaned, knowing now that this would last a long time. He collapsed against the bed, holding his ass high in the air so Szayel could keep moving fingers, just like that, in the most glorious way. 

“Mmm, let me know when you’re about to cum again, okay?” Szayel sped up his pace until he was unabashedly fucking Uryu on his fingers. “I want to make it special for you.” 

How the hell could it get any more…? But Uryu let all his own thoughts go and just nodded his head. He would do whatever Szayel wanted from here on out. Now he understood what it felt like to be at someone’s mercy completely. In truth, Uryu felt like his sanity depended on contact from Szayel’s hands and body…he might go mad without them.

Szayel worked his lover just like that for a while, enjoying the sounds of Uryu’s small moans and cries. “Is this good?” he asked. “Just like this?”

Fuck, Uryu bit his lip. He knew the answer to that was no. He knew what he needed…oh god, he knew…

“Not…enough…” Uryu managed to say in a small voice.

“Hm? This isn’t enough for you?” Szayel pulled his fingers out completely. Uryu groaned deeply at the loss, feeling like he might cry if Szayel left him now, when he was already in this state. 

“So then…” The older man stood up and disrobed the rest of the way. “What do you need, my love?” 

Again that crazy smirk. Szayel already knew full well what Uryu was aching for, but he was going to be true to his word and make him beg. That fucking jerk…of course he was.

So, if that was the case, then Uryu had no choice. He would do this…this time…because it was dangerous to his health to go without.

Giving in, Uryu rolled over onto his side. He sized up Granz’s naked body with lidded eyes, staring intently on his lover’s proud cock. His body trembled again, knowing instinctively that it needed that thing deep inside…Uryu felt himself actually start to salivate as he saw it. Goddamn, he wanted that cock…

“Szayelaporro…” Uryu moaned, licking his lips, not even trying to hide his stare. “I need it. Give it to me, please…” 

The older man grinned. “You need it? What, this?” He grabbed hold of his own dick and wagged it back and forth teasingly. 

Uryu whimpered, his body seizing up again as it imagined how that same motion would feel inside. “Yes, that! Ah, god, Szayel please…don’t tease me anymore…” 

Of course Szayel needed to do just a little more teasing. On principle. 

He approached Uryu until the younger man’s face was level with his hard dick. He could see the tears in Uryu’s eyes at being denied for longer than was strictly necessary (and holy shit did he have some wonderful data already from this experience!). Stroking his boy’s face, Szayel peered down at him lovingly. 

“Lick me, Uryu. Be thorough…get me nice and wet…” 

Sighing shakily, Uryu complied right away. He stuck out his tongue and lapped the head of Szayel’s dick vigorously. The scientist swayed on his feet at the contact, not necessarily prepared for such a direct attack. But after he adjusted, he stood up straighter and reached around to fondle Uryu’s asshole while the boy worked. 

“Ah ha!” Uryu cried, pausing for a moment in surprise. Then, as if more motivated than ever, he pulled Szayel into his mouth and sucked him hard, running his tongue over the tip again and again. 

“Ah, yes, just like that, Uryu!” Szayel cried. Wow, this was certainly new! Uryu was normally…mediocre when it came to blowjobs. He tried, but he was always a bit too reserved to give Szayel exactly what he liked. This, however…this was a whole new amazing side to Uryu he had never seen before.

Horny and desperate. Like a little, virginal slut…ah, fuck yes, that was exactly what he had been hoping to get out of all this.

Deciding that was more than enough teasing (and worried he might come before the main event himself), Szayel took his dick out of Uryu’s mouth and kneeled back down behind him on the bed. He adjusted Uryu’s body, loving the sound of the chains as they rattled against the headboard. The boy was like clay in his hands, able to be molded into any position. So Szayel pushed Uryu’s head all the way down on the bed with his ass all the way in the air as high as it could go. 

It was a picture of complete submission, and Szayel could come just from staring at his boy like that. (He stored the image safely inside his memory, in case he needed something to masturbate to later.)

“Oh, Uryu,” Szayel whispered, lining his cock up against the younger man’s entrance. “I do so love you.” 

With that, Szayel thrust himself all the way into his lover, straight down to the root of his dick. Uryu screamed, as if a spring of tension had just been released somewhere inside him. He climaxed again without a hand to his cock, shivering and trying to hold himself still against the dick in his ass, not wanting to lose any contact with it. 

The older man had to really control himself not to follow him. The feeling of being held so tightly by Uryu’s inner walls…it was really quite unbearable.

“Fuck, Uryu…” Szayel grunted, starting to thrust in and out of the younger man, who was still coming down from his orgasm. “You feel…unbelievably good in here…insanely hot, like you’re burning up…so tight, and so wet…” 

Uryu’s body, exhausted from coming twice already, started to ache again as Szayel fucked him. That long thing rubbing against him, creating such amazing sensation against his painfully sensitive insides…he got aroused again, somehow still able to get hard. (That drug, _Fornicarás_ was it? It was hell. Truly something demonic, it had to be…)

“I _am_ burning up, Szayel,” Uryu moaned. “I can barely stand it….just please…keeping fucking me…ah god, yes, just like that…!” 

While Szayel rode him, he managed to angle himself properly against Uryu’s sweet spot. Once the younger man felt that, he was unable to say anything else. Realizing what was happening, Szayel made sure to hit that spot over and over again as he thrusted. He wanted his boy to come again like this—at least one more time!

Uryu let go of whatever control he had left over his body. That spot in him…normally he liked and it felt good, but now…this pounding was exactly what he had needed all along. His body thrummed with satisfaction and mind-numbing pleasure. He could not be sure what sounds were coming out of his mouth, but he knew he was drooling all over the pillows, sweating hard, a complete mess…if only Szayel would give him just a little bit more and he could orgasm again. He needed that, he needed relief from this…

“S-szayel…! C-cumming…!” Uryu somehow managed to say. 

“I know, I know!” Szayel amped up the speed of his thrusts until he was moving at a brutal pace. “Come for me, _mi dulce niño_ …!” 

Just a little more and Uryu came apart on Szayel’s dick, climaxing yet again all over the bed. He had no idea how there was still anything left inside him, but it felt so good to get his release in just the right way! He felt so light suddenly, so wonderful! He wanted to hold onto this feeling for as long as he could…

Szayel decided to let himself go as well. He threw his head back and came, riding out his orgasm deep inside the younger man. He cried out loudly at first but by the end of it he was laughing in a fit of heaving hysterics. 

“Uryu! Uryu!” Szayel shouted, still laughing, starting to come down from his high now. “Amazing! How many times can you cum on nothing but my cock?” 

Unable to answer, Uryu collapsed onto the bed. Szayel followed him because of the way they were connected. The two of them panted for a while, sufficiently less desperate now, but unwilling to separate no matter what.

Eventually, Szayel sat up on his knees. He was hard again. “I’m ready for another round, my dear. Shall we try again?”

Feeling like his body might really fall apart this time, Uryu was about to protest, but Szayel started again anyway without waiting for an answer. 

This time, Szayel fucked him a bit slower but not at all softer. The scientist wanted to take his time—to enjoy Uryu in this altered state to the fullest extent he was able—but he honestly could not get enough of the heat inside his lover. Such tortuously good warmth made him unable to hold back. As their love-making began to drag on, he gave in and wrapped a hand around Uryu’s dick, stroking him in time to his thrusts. 

To Uryu’s bewilderment, Szayel stroked and fucked him right into another orgasm. He had no semen left and the spasms were almost painful to his exhausted body. But he came, certainly, and he rolled around on the bed underneath his lover as he endured it.

“Szayel…enough…” Uryu panted, when he was done coming, feeling sore all over. “I can’t take any more…”

Disappointed at first, Szayel realized Uryu had been through quite a lot. “Alright, my love,” he conceded. “Just let me get there…” 

Not wanting to hurt him, Szayel made sure to release as soon as he could. That last orgasm gave him a kind of prickling satisfaction, knowing that he was only the one who could defile Uryu like this. He loved that knowledge, that comfort, and he wanted to think of a way to get Uryu to do this with him again…in the near future…

But that was for another time.

Slowly pulling out, Szayel un-cuffed Uryu from the headboard and adjusted him like a limp rag doll until the boy was laying comfortably on his back. From there, Szayel spread another lotion on his lover’s wrists, making sure there would be no marks left over (even though Szayel thought he might like to see some visual evidence after this…but Uryu would surely be too embarrassed to allow anything to show). 

As Szayel cleaned him, Uryu drifted in and out of consciousness. He could not remember the last time he was this exhausted—body, mind, and soul, as the case was. He loved the feeling of Szayel’s hands tending to him studiously…when the older man finally finished, Uryu curled up against him, wanting to be wrapped in those arms. 

Szayel complied, holding Uryu against his chest. He rather liked this little switch in their dynamic. He prayed that the younger man would not regret this when morning came…but even if he did, Szayel would find a way to convince him how wonderful it was to be pampered. 

And oh, how Szayel wanted to pamper this boy! For the rest of his life. Even longer.

Completely content, Szayel mused on what a resounding success _Fornicarás_ turned out to be. Four orgasms out of Uryu, on his first time being on the bottom? Perfection. Perhaps even more than he anticipated! But if he had to make some adjustments, what would they be…? It was almost hard to think of anything…

And so, they fell asleep together. That night and many, many nights after it. 

_______________________________________________________________

Towards the end of that year, Szayel found Uryu hunched over his desk. The younger man had his face inches away from a small pile of papers. 

Peering curiously at his lover, Szayel looked to see what the papers were. But Uryu was so fixated on them that the scientist could not even read the title from around his lover’s head.

“What is that, Uryu?” Szayel demanded, not liking how tightly Uryu clutched those papers. 

Startled, as if not realizing he was being observed, Uryu jumped slightly and whipped around to face Szayel. In his confusion, he let the papers fall out of his hands slightly. 

Finally, the scientist could read what they said: _Touhei Medical School Application._

Ah.

Szayel smiled and put his hands on Uryu’s shoulders, massaging his lover lightly. “So you’ve decided?”

“Ah, no…” Uryu said weakly. He adjusted his glasses and put the papers back in order. “I’m still…considering. Weighing my options…”

But Szayel could see that Uryu had already filled out the first three parts of the application. It was farther than he’d gotten on any of the other applications his lover had looked at this year. 

So, Szayel knew. Uryu had decided.

The scientist was quite pleased. Rather proud. He bent down and kissed the side of Uryu’s face. “This is a wonderful choice,” he assured him. “Truly.” 

Uryu blushed and shrugged, pointing out that he had not officially sent anything yet so nothing was set in stone. There was still a long application and interview process to go through, who knew if he would even get in. Medical schools looked at things other than grades in their candidates…and so on.

But Szayel was far from worried. In fact, he could not wait to see Uryu become a doctor. Even though he had already decided on this long ago, Szayel was never happier in his choice to stay by Uryu’s side. There were so many things left for them to do…

He could not wait to see what they accomplished. 

 

 

 

The end

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanish notes:  
> tonto = fool  
> querido = dear  
> mi dulce nino - my sweet boy  
> (Am I missing any...?)
> 
> So it ends. As you all know, I'm a sucker for the happy ending (the kind of person who plays a VN again and again until they get the good ending? Yeah that's me). But these guys deserve it, though!!
> 
> As for the sex, I kind of like to see this story as Uryu slowly coming to terms with his uke-ness. He starts off resistant to everything, then slowly gets into it, let's himself be intimate, and even wants to fuck Szayel. (Szayel, who just loves attention generally, is fine with all of this.) Then finally at the end...well, after that, Uryu realizes his own propensity for being an uke. As nature intended lol.
> 
> Moving on, thank you all for reading this crazed fic! Once again, thank you to the lovely, lovely Questionable_Decisions for the inspiration. This one took a long time but it was worth it!
> 
> Buenos noches~ <3


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